The only means of strengthening one’s intellect is to make up one’s mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
JOHN KEATS- What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
JOHN KEATS
- black
- grey
- blue
- red
- brown
- white
What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
More John Keats Quotes
-
The only means of strengthening one’s intellect is to make up one’s mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
JOHN KEATS -
Beauty is truth, truth beauty.
JOHN KEATSBeauty is truth, truth beauty.
JOHN KEATS -
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 KEATSAs 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 -
One of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind’s imagining into another
JOHN KEATSOne of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind’s imagining into another
JOHN KEATS -
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art– Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite.
JOHN KEATSBright star, would I were steadfast as thou art– Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite.
JOHN KEATS -
Life is but a day; A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way From a tree’s summit.
JOHN KEATSLife is but a day; A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way From a tree’s summit.
JOHN KEATS -
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
JOHN KEATSA thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
JOHN KEATS -
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
JOHN KEATSBut the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
JOHN KEATS -
My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
JOHN KEATSMy imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
JOHN KEATS -
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
JOHN KEATSI wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
JOHN KEATS -
Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
JOHN KEATSLet us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
JOHN KEATS -
Death is Life’s high meed.
JOHN KEATSDeath is Life’s high meed.
JOHN KEATS -
You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
JOHN KEATSYou are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
JOHN KEATS -
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
JOHN KEATSWhat is more gentle than a wind is summer?
JOHN KEATS -
All writing is a form of prayer.
JOHN KEATSAll writing is a form of prayer.
JOHN KEATS -
There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
JOHN KEATSThere is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
JOHN KEATS


