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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Experience
Ever
Nothing
Experienced
Real
Educational
Till
Positive
Becomes
Happiness

More quotes by John Keats

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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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O aching time! O moments big as years!
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
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Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.
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Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
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I do think better of womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.
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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.
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The opinion I have of the generality of women--who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a sugar plum than my time, forms a barrier against matrimony which I rejoice in.
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Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
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All writing is a form of prayer.
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Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved, And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
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No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
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When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.
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