O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYFate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
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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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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.
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All love is sweet Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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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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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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Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
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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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Heaven’s ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon’s unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
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We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
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Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
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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 -
Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number- Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you Ye are many-they are few.
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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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A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY