When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYWhen the power of imparting joy is equal to the will, the human soul requires no other heaven.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer; and the vessel of the state is driven between the Scylla and Charybdis of anarchy and despotism.
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A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
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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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Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
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Life 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.
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I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
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The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
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To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light,The night is good; because, my love,They never say good-night.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead – When the cloud is scattered The rainbow’s glory is shed.
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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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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!
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See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea – What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?
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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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Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
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The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY






