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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Kiss
Endless
Kissing
Vow
Bliss
Soft

More quotes by John Keats

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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
John Keats
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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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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.
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... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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I wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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Blessed is the healthy nature it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
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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.
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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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Why employ intelligent and highly paid ambassadors and then go and do their work for them? You don't buy a canary and sing yourself.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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I myself am pursuing the same instinctive course as the veriest human animal you can think of I am, however young, writing at random straining at particles of light in the midst of a great darkness without knowing the bearing of any one assertion, of any one opinion. Yet may I not in this be free from sin?
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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
John Keats
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The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.
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Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
John Keats
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A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
John Keats