She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
JOHN KEATS
All writing is a form of prayer.
More John Keats Quotes
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She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
JOHN KEATS -
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
JOHN KEATS -
We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
JOHN KEATS -
The air is all softness.
JOHN KEATS -
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
JOHN KEATS -
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections, and the truth of imagination.
JOHN KEATS -
The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.
JOHN KEATS -
Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings?
JOHN KEATS -
Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine?
JOHN KEATS -
I have an habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am leading a posthumous existence.
JOHN KEATS -
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
JOHN KEATS -
To silence gossip, don’t repeat it.
JOHN KEATS -
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
JOHN KEATS -
Shed no tear – O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more – O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root’s white core.
JOHN KEATS -
Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
JOHN KEATS -
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
JOHN KEATS