The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYThere is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number- Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you Ye are many-they are few.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won.
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Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
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I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright.
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I love tranquil solitude.
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There is no disease, bodily or mental, which adoption of vegetable diet, and pure water has not infallibly mitigated, wherever the experiment has been fairly tried.
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Sing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.
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Are we not formed, as notes of music are, For one another, though dissimilar?
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.
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Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, – but it returneth!
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Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.
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Before man can be free, and equal, and truly wise, he must cast aside the chains of habit and superstition; he must strip sensuality of its pomp, and selfishness of its excuses, and contemplate actions and objects as they really are.
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And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
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There Is No God. This negation must be understood solely to affect a creative Deity. The hypothesis of a pervading Spirit co-eternal with the universe remains unshaken.
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The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
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Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
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Sometimes it’s better to put love into hugs than to put it into words. Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
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Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
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The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying.
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Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
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Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came, A portion of the Eternal.
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Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
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Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
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When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY