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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Related Topics

History Man Memories Poem Writing

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

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

Each Other Goodness Heart Light Love Morning Night
All love is sweet Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Light Love Return Voice
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
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
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Memories Music Soft Vibration Voice
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

Breathe Bright Dreams Night Shine Sleep Stars
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Music Ourselves Sadness Song Sweet Talk Thinking
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
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 wish no living thing to suffer pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Live Myself One Liner Pain Suffering
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!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Autumn Harmony See Sky Summer Thinking
I love tranquil solitude.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Love Myself One Liner Solitude Tranquility
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
I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Love Myself Radiance Snow
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

Goodness Greatness Happiness Himself Imagination Intense Man Pain Place
There is no disease, bodily or mental, which adoption of vegetable diet, and pure water has not infallibly mitigated, wherever the experiment has been fairly tried.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Body Experiment Fair Mental Purity Sick Try Water

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