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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

John Keats

I have an habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am leading a posthumous existence.
JOHN KEATS

Existence Feeling Habit Leadership Myself Reality
The excellence of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate, from their being in close relationship with beauty and truth.
JOHN KEATS

Art Beautiful Excellence Intense Relationship Truth
Stop and consider! life is but a day
JOHN KEATS

Day Life Stop
Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.
JOHN KEATS

Death Divorce Greatness Land Sea Separate Weakness
Love is my religion – I could die for it.
JOHN KEATS

Death Love Myself Religion
Life is but a day; A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way From a tree’s summit.
JOHN KEATS

Fragile Life Tree Way
Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.
JOHN KEATS

Dance Flower Myself Soul Steal
Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
JOHN KEATS

Leaving Rose Togetherness
Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
JOHN KEATS

Mental Pursue Pursuit Reality Worth
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
JOHN KEATS

Day Myself World Writing
There is an old saying “well begun is half done”-’tis a bad one. I would use instead-Not begun at all ’til half done.
JOHN KEATS

Bad Beginning Myself Old
Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
JOHN KEATS

Delicate Fingers Ring Tiny White Wings
The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
JOHN KEATS

Art Excellence Inspirational Intense Motivational Myself One Liner
Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
JOHN KEATS

Flower Leaving Ourselves Passion
Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings?
JOHN KEATS

Greatness Work
Is there another Life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.
JOHN KEATS

Creation Dreams Life Suffering Wake Up

But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

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