black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

John Keats

I must choose between despair and Energy – I choose the latter.
JOHN KEATS

Choice Despair Energy Myself
Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
JOHN KEATS

Dreams Fantasy Herself Sea Soft Tremble
The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown – the Air is our robe of state – the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
JOHN KEATS

Earth Nature Ourselves Play Sea Sky
I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
JOHN KEATS

Cloud Existence Fantasy Forever Myself
Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not.
JOHN KEATS

Beautiful Existence Imagination Truth
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
JOHN KEATS

One Liner Summer Wind
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

Cry Flower Sleep Tears Young
An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever; and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
JOHN KEATS

Knowledge Mystery Need People Thinking
Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
JOHN KEATS

Failure Inspirational Motivational Perspective Success
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity.
JOHN KEATS

Forever Silence Thinking
I have so much of you in my heart.
JOHN KEATS

Heart Love Relationship Yourself
A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
JOHN KEATS

Man Soul World
As the Swiss inscription says: “Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;” or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.
JOHN KEATS

Expression Forever Gold Myself Silence Talk Time
Love is my religion – I could die for it.
JOHN KEATS

Death Love Myself Religion
If poetry does not come as naturally as leaves to a tree, then it better not come at all.
JOHN KEATS

Leaving Natural Poetry Tree
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
JOHN KEATS

Cruelty Happiness Pain Pleasure Visit

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

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Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

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Popular Authors

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