If a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYIf a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYI arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYSometimes The Devil is a gentleman.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYI wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYLife and the world, or whatever we call that which we are and feel, is an astonishing thing. The mist of familiarity obscures from us the wonder of our being. We are struck with admiration at some of its transient modifications, but it is itself the great miracle.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYAnd 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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYThere 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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYThe great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYWhen the power of imparting joy is equal to the will, the human soul requires no other heaven.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYI wish no living thing to suffer pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYThen black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYHeaven’s ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon’s unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYNothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYIt is only by softening and disguising dead flesh by culinary preparation that it is rendered susceptible of mastication or digestion, and that the sight of its bloody juices and raw horror does not excite intolerable loathing and disgust.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYPoets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYA single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY