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The poetry of the earth is never dead.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Never
Garden
Life
Poetry
Dead
Environment
Natural
Inspirational
Nature
Earth
Gardening

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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity he is continually informing and filling some other body.
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'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.
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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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Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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That which is creative must create itself.
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.
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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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Let us away, my love, with happy speed There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, - Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead. Awake! arise! my love and fearless be, For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee.
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!
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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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