Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYLife 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!
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
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When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.
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Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
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Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
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A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.
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I love all waste And solitary places; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
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Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
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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.
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I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
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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!
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If a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.
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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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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY