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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Beautiful Feeling Greatness Life Miracle Nature Wonderful World
A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Literature Power Thinking Word
Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Himself Kingdom Man Rule
Love’s very pain is sweet.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Love One Liner Pain Sweet
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
I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Drink Joy Taste Tonight Wine
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Best Happiness Mindset Moments Poetry Record
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

Earth Fall Rise Sleep Yourself
The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Black Heart Loud Note
Joy, once lost, is pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Joy Lost Pain
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Drive Fate Poor Rich Standard
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
Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Act Action Beautiful Love
This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Appearance Beautiful Lake Myself
I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Fear Myself Tremble
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

Death Fear Happiness Hope Ourselves
Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Future Inspirational Mirror Poet Present Shadow
Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

City Fame Hell Popular Smoke
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead – When the cloud is scattered The rainbow’s glory is shed.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Break Death Glory Lie Light
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!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Change Death Fly Hope Life Return Truth
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Command Man Obey Soul Virtue
The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Discover Ignorance Ourselves Study Wisdom
A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan like leaves to the light, and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Garden Growth Kiss Light Night Open Plant Wind Young
I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Distance Field Myself River Travel
Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Consumption Light Poet Poetry Power
Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Honor One Liner Smile Truth
Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Beautiful Hide Poetry World

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