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He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Fear
Airy
Immortality
Voices
Immortal
Fears
Lead
Follow
Voice
Crowned
More quotes by John Keats
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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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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I do think better of womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.
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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 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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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? ---On death
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It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.
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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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You speak of Lord Byron and me there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
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O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
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O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art-- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.
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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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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness.
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That which is creative must create itself.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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