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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Beauty
Rather
Sense
Obliterates
Great
Overcomes
Every
Genocide
Consideration
Overcoming
Poet
More quotes by John Keats
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
John Keats
The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.
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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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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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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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Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
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Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
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We must repeat the often repeated saying, that it is unworthy a religious man to view an irreligious one either with alarm or aversion, or with any other feeling than regret and hope and brotherly commiseration.
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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.
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
John Keats
Load every rift with ore.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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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.
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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A long poem is a test of invention which I take to be the Polar star of poetry, as fancy is the sails, and imagination the rudder.
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