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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Certain
Holiness
Nothing
Certainty
Heart
Affection
Imagination
Belief
Lying
Inspirational
Truth
Affections

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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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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 latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!
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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.
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Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.
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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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I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
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O let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look O let me for one moment touch her wrist Let me one moment to her breathing list And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.
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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
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I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
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There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one filled with hatreds cannot be vain, neither can he be wise.
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O aching time! O moments big as years!
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
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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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