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I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Possession
Two
Hour
Walking
Minutes
Brood
Walks
Luxuries
Loveliness
Literature
Luxury
Hours
Minute
Death
More quotes by John Keats
Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them thou has thy music too.
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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they
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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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No, no, I'm sure, My restless spirit never could endure To brood so long upon one luxury, Unless it did, though fearfully, espy A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
John Keats
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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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
John Keats
I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
John Keats
No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
John Keats
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
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O aching time! O moments big as years!
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...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.
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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
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If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
John Keats
Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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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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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
John Keats