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William Blake Quotes - Page 14

All Quotes Age Art Atheism Attitude Beauty Belief Business Children Christ Christianity Church Death Desire Devil Doubt Earth Energy Eternity Evil Fame Forgiveness Friendship Genius Giving Glory God Gold Gratitude Grief Happiness Harmony Hate Heart Heaven Hell Hills History House Humanity Imagination Innocence Inspiration Inspirational Jesus Joy Kissing Knowledge Laughter Life Loss Love Lust Lying Mercy Money Morning Motivational Mountain Nature Painting Passion Peace Perception Philosophy Politics Pride Rage Reality Religion Revenge Running Science Shame Singing Sleep Sorrow Soul Spring Summer Talent Thankfulness Time Truth Virtue Vision Wall War Water Wife Winter Wisdom Writing

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

Summer, Art, Animal

William Blake (2005). “Collected Poems”, p.72, Routledge

God keep me from the divinity of Yes and Nothe Yea Nay Creeping Jesus, from supposing Up and Down to be the same thing as allexperimentalists must suppose.

Jesus, Divinity, Supposing

O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Summer, Flames, Hair

When Sir Joshua Reynolds died All Nature was degraded

Art, Artist, Died

Annotations to The Works of Sir Joshua Reynolds p. cix 'When Sir Joshua Reynolds died' (c.1808)

Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.

Lust, Desire, Goats

"The Voice of the Devil". "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell". Book by William Blake, www.bartleby.com. 1793.

The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword, are portions of eternity, too great for the eye of man.

Eye, Men, Sea

William Blake (1975). “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell”, p.18, Oxford Paperbacks

But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

Children, Abuse, Tears

William Blake (1971). “Songs of Innocence and Experience”, p.27, Library of Alexandria

Prudence is a rich, ugly, old maid courted by incapacity.

Maids, Ugly, Action

'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell' (1790-3) 'Proverbs of Hell'

I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill

Spiritual, Saws, Sun

William Blake, W. H. Stevenson (2007). “Blake: The Complete Poems”, p.832, Pearson Education

Harmony of colouring is destructive of art? it is like the smile of a fool.

Art, Fool, Harmony

William Blake (1966). “Complete Writings: With Variant Readings”, p.478, Oxford University Press, USA

Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.

Butterfly, Judgement, Lasts

'Auguries of Innocence' (c.1803) l. 37

Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go.

Sweet, Time, Journey

'Songs of Experience' (1794) 'Ah, Sun-flower!'

Where there is money there is no art.

Art

On no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed.

Weed, Seeds

William Blake, Michael Mason (1998). “Selected Poetry”, p.109, Oxford University Press, USA

Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring; And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.

Children, Spring, Bird

'Songs of Experience' (1794) 'The Little Vagabond'

Where cheating is, there's mischief there.

Cheating, Infidelity, Mischief

William Blake (2005). “Collected Poems”, p.15, Routledge

I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Running, Wall, Men

William Blake (2010). “Poems: Introduction by Patti Smith”, p.144, Random House

The voice of honest indignation is the voice of God.

Voice, Honest, Voice Of God

William Blake (1994). “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: In Full Color”, p.35, Courier Corporation

A dead body revenges not injuries.

Revenge, Body, Injury

William Blake, William Butler Yeats (2002). “Collected Poems”, p.166, Psychology Press

What has reason to do with the art of painting?

Art, Painting, Reason

Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming o'er the joys of night.Sleep, sleep: in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep.

Dream, Sleep, Night

William Blake, David Fuller (2000). “William Blake: Selected Poetry and Prose”, p.151, Pearson Education

The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid, of Plato & Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible

Plato, Writing, Men

William Blake, W. H. Stevenson (2007). “Blake: The Complete Poems”, p.501, Pearson Education

I will not cease from mental fight Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand.

Sleep, Fighting, Hands

'Milton' (1804-10) Preface 'And did those feet in ancient time'

I love hanging and drawing and quartering Every bit as well as war and slaughtering.

War, Drawing, Wells

William Blake, David Fuller (2000). “William Blake: Selected Poetry and Prose”, p.160, Pearson Education

He who shall teach the child to doubtThe rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

Children, Rotting, Graves

William Blake (2005). “Collected Poems”, p.96, Routledge

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