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First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Related Topics

Death Fear Happiness Hope Ourselves

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Literature Power Thinking Word
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Memories Music Soft Vibration Voice
I 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 SHELLEY

Laughter Myself Rain Thunder Travel
When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Friendship Himself Man Marriage Religion
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Hard Time Inspirational Spring Struggle Wind
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 SHELLEY

Care Cat Happiness Myself Thinking Way
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bed Death Earth Failure Flower Leaving Lying Sun Warm Wind
If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

God Religion Satisfaction Talk World
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Cry Fear Future Past
Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Essence Fear Jealous Liberty Love Obedience
I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Fear Myself Tremble
War is the statesman’s game, the priest’s delight, the lawyer’s jest, the hired assassin’s trade.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Game Law Trade War
Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Age Art Artist Creation Music Painting Philosophy Poet
Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came, A portion of the Eternal.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Burn Flow Forever Fountain Pure Spirit
Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Chance Change Fate Forever Love Time
Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs, – To the silent wilderness, Where the soul need not repress Its music.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

City Man Music Silence Soul Spiritual Wild

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