Quote

Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Fine
Strikes
Almost
Appear
Literature
Surprise
Inspirational
Poet
Wording
Reader
Singularity
Highest
Remembrance
Poetry
Strike
Thoughts
Excess

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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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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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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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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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The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.
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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.
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Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
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I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.
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it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
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The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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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.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.
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