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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
Happiness
Experience
Ever
Nothing
Experienced
Real
Educational
Till
Positive
Becomes

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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
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The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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That which is creative must create itself.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
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All writing is a form of prayer.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? ---On death
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . .
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.
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