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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.

John Keats

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

Mental Pursue Pursuit Reality Worth
With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
JOHN KEATS

Beautiful Consider Greatness Poet
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
JOHN KEATS

Beautiful Forever Joy One Liner
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
JOHN KEATS

Gratitude Kiss Rose Run Wind
I have so much of you in my heart.
JOHN KEATS

Heart Love Relationship Yourself
I must choose between despair and Energy – I choose the latter.
JOHN KEATS

Choice Despair Energy Myself
There is nothing stable in the world; uproar’s your only music.
JOHN KEATS

Music Stability World Yourself
How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they.
JOHN KEATS

Man Poet Power Talk
Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
JOHN KEATS

Myself Place Soul Tears World
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
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
JOHN KEATS

Experience Reality
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
JOHN KEATS

Deep Melody Sweet
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
And when thou art weary I’ll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.
JOHN KEATS

Art Bed Flower Head Myself
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
O aching time! O moments big as years!
JOHN KEATS

Big Hurt Moments Time

What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.

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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.

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