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John Keats Quotes - Page 8

All Quotes Ambition Art Autumn Beauty Children Darkness Death Depression Dying Excellence Experience Failure Feelings Genius Giving Gold Grieving Happiness Hate Heart Heaven Home Hope Imagination Immortality Inspirational Joy Kissing Knowledge Life Literature Love Lying Moon Morning Music Nature Pain Passion Philosophy Pleasure Poetry Pride Religion Romance Romantic Love Sadness Science Silence Silver Sleep Solitude Sorrow Soul Spring Summer Time Truth Vision War Water Wine Winter Writing

Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.

Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.

Philosophy, Angel, Air

John Keats, Helen Vendler (1990). “Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard”, p.214, Harvard University Press

Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop From low hung branches; little space they stop; But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek; Then off at once, as in a wanton freak: Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.

Space, Wings, Yellow

John Keats, Helen Vendler (1990). “Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard”, p.34, Harvard University Press

When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Men, Age, This Generation

"Ode on a Grecian Urn" l. 46 (1820)

You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you for the first time...Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you.

Home, Kissing, Yesterday

John Keats (2002). “Selected Letters”, p.340, Oxford University Press, USA

To Sorrow I bade good-morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly: She is so constant to me, and so kind.

Love, Sorrow, Kind

'Endymion' (1818) bk. 4, l. 173

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Friendship, Summer, Running

John Keats, Helen Vendler (1990). “Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard”, p.222, Harvard University Press

I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.

Beauty, Truth, Perception

John Keats (1914*). “The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats”, p.345, Рипол Классик

To one who has been long in city pent, ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.

Sweet, Nature, Prayer

"To One Who Has Been Long in City Pent" l. 1 (1817)

A quote about drinking is a joy forever

Drinking, Joy, Forever

But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy?

Joy

John Keats (1871). “Poetical Works”, p.233

Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.

Enormous

'Hyperion: A Fragment' (1820) bk. 3, l. 113

Alas! when passion is both meek and wild!

Passion, Meek, Alas

John Keats (1914*). “The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats”, p.111, Рипол Классик

Wine is only sweet to happy men.

Happiness, Sweet, Wine

John Keats (2015). “John Keats - The Man Behind The Lyrics: Life, letters, and literary remains: Complete Letters and Two Extensive Biographies of one of the most beloved English Romantic poets”, p.269, e-artnow

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

Doom, Grandeur

'Endymion' (1818) bk. 1, l. 20

The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.

Genius, University, Innate

Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.

Children, Silence, Foster Children

'Ode on a Grecian Urn' (1820) st. 1

O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.

Vision, Olympus, Hierarchy

John Keats (1859). “The Poetical Works of John Keats: With a Life”, p.314

... 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!

Beautiful, Art, Stars

John Keats (1914*). “The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats”, p.66, Рипол Классик

Thou art a dreaming thing, A fever of thyself.

Dream, Art, Fever

John Keats, Jack Stillinger (1982). “Complete Poems”, p.365, Harvard University Press

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

Death, Thank God, Quiet

In a letter from Joseph Severn to John Taylor, 6 March 1821, in H. E. Rollins (ed.) 'The Letters of John Keats' (1958) vol. 2, p. 378

I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.

Love, Crush, Without You

John Keats (2009). “Selected Letters of John Keats: Revised Edition”, p.390, Harvard University Press

Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so does the moon, the passion posey, glories infinite, Haunt us till they become a cheering light unto our souls and bound to us so fast, that wheather there be shine, or gloom o'er cast, They always must be with us, or we die.

Cheer, Passion, Moon

'Endymion' (1818) bk. 1, l. 33

The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.

Solitude

Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.

Summer, Dream, Twilight

John Keats (1914*). “The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats”, p.64, Рипол Классик

We hate poetry that has a palpable design upon us - and if we do not agree, seems to put its hand in its breeches pocket. Poetry should be great & unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself but with its subject. - How beautiful are the retired flowers! how would they lose their beauty were they to throng into the highway crying out, "admire me I am a violet! dote upon me I am a primrose!"

Beautiful, Hate, Flower

John Keats (2002). “Selected Letters”, p.58, Oxford University Press, USA

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