I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYSing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
-
-
Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
It 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 SHELLEY -
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 -
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Love’s very pain is sweet.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
I love tranquil solitude And such society As is quiet, wise, and good.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
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 -
Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Are we not formed, as notes of music are, For one another, though dissimilar?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY