Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYI have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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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?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid – in which case all comment is superfluous – or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Joy, once lost, is pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
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 -
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 -
The jealous keys of truth’s eternal doors.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
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Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
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 -
Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY -
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
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 -
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.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY