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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Arms
Alone
Loitering
Knight
Knights
Thee
More quotes by John Keats
I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
John Keats
Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal.
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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 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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Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu
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My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
John Keats
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter therefore, ye soft pipes, play on Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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When I have fears that I may ceace to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain.
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Blessed is the healthy nature it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.
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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.
John Keats