black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

John Keats

I wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth.
JOHN KEATS

Focus Happiness Invention Myself Taste Yourself
There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
JOHN KEATS

Future Night
Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
JOHN KEATS

Dreams Herself Hurt Love Memories Myself
You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
JOHN KEATS

Bright Grace Kiss Smile Sweet Yourself
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
JOHN KEATS

Happiness Live Love Myself Relationship Summer Yourself
My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.
JOHN KEATS

Body Mindset Myself Oneself
Scenery is fine – but human nature is finer.
JOHN KEATS

Better Human Nature View
Many have original minds who do not think it – they are led away by custom!
JOHN KEATS

Mindset Original Thinking
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

Choice Death Drink Happiness Poet Soul Wine
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
JOHN KEATS

One Liner Summer Wind
Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine – Unweave a rainbow.
JOHN KEATS

Angel Line Myself Mystery Philosophy Rule Wings
She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
JOHN KEATS

Hands Herself Himself Kiss
What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
JOHN KEATS

Philosophy Poet Virtue
Touch has a memory. O say, love say, What can I do to kill it and be free In my old liberty?
JOHN KEATS

Freedom Kill Liberty Love Memories Talk Touch
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
A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
JOHN KEATS

Beyond Dreams Hope Shadow

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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