Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYNothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
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I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
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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.
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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.
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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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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.
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Sing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.
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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.
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There Is No God. This negation must be understood solely to affect a creative Deity. The hypothesis of a pervading Spirit co-eternal with the universe remains unshaken.
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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.
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Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
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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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When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead – When the cloud is scattered The rainbow’s glory is shed.
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If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
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Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
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It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
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The psychological and moral comfort of a presence at once humble and understanding-this is the greatest benefit that the dog has bestowed upon man.
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes – are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.
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Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.
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The jealous keys of truth’s eternal doors.
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I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
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Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.
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When the power of imparting joy is equal to the will, the human soul requires no other heaven.
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Words are but holy as the deeds they cover.
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Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY