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The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

William Blake

If a thing loves, it is infinite.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Forever Love
The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Growth Himself Lion Tree
He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars; General Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite and flatterer: For Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Art Existence Goodness Himself Science
Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Attraction Energy Existence Hate Human Love Necessary Progress Reason
A truth that’s told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Bad Invention Lie Truth Yourself
I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Accomplishment Myself Spirit
To generalize is to be an idiot.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Stupidity
Those who control their passions do so because their passions are weak enough to be controlled.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Control Enough Passionate Weakness
Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Break Joy Love Mindset Prison Wings
Everything possible to be believed is an image of truth.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Believe Possible Truth
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Black Desire Joy Walk
My mother groaned, my father wept,i nto the dangerous world I leapt.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Danger Father Mom Myself World
And we are put on this earth a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Born Learning Love Nature Space
I will not reason and compare my business is to create.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Business Creation Myself Reason
For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Dance God Hands Myself Sing Wings
Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Grief Joy

The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

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The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

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