John Keats Quotes

O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!

Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.

Thou art a dreaming thing, A fever of thyself.

I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably

O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.

A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power; 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm.

Alas! when passion is both meek and wild!

And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!

Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.

I compare human life to a large mansion of many apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me.

I came to feel how far above All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood, All earthly pleasure, all imagined good, Was the warm tremble of a devout kiss.

All my clear-eyed fish, Golden, or rainbow-sided, or purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, or finn'd with silvery gauze... My charming rod, my potent river spells.

Many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death.

Works of genius are the first things in the world.

You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.

The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream-he awoke and found it truth.

Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.

What occasions the greater part of the world's quarrels? Simply this: Two minds meet and do not understand each other in time enough to prevent any shock of surprise at the conduct of either party.

No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.

The grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead.

I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.

No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.

To the very last, he [Napoleon] had a kind of idea; that, namely, of la carrière ouverte aux talents, - the tools to him that can handle them.

His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed.

Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy; don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.

My friends should drink a dozen of Claret on my Tomb.

When I have fears that I may ceace to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain".

Blessed is the healthy nature; it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!

The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave - thank God for the quiet grave

... for, by all the stars That tend thy bidding, I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

So let me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours.

But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!

I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.

If I am destined to be happy with you here—how short is the longest Life—I wish to believe in immortality—I wish to live with you for ever.

The world is too brutal for me—I am glad there is such a thing as the grave—I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

I was too much in solitude, and consequently was obliged to be in continual burning of thought, as an only resource.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.

The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by skeptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were.

Here lies one whose name was writ on water.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter

Beauty is truth, truth beauty, —that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know

Yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.

If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.

I do think the barsThat kept my spirit in are burst - that IAm sailing with thee through the dizzy sky!How beautiful thou art!

Open wide the mind's cage-door, She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art--Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.

No one can usurp the heights...But those to whom the miseries of the worldAre misery, and will not let them rest.