Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
John Keats
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Every
Intensity
Excellence
Art
More quotes by John Keats
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
John Keats
was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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.
John Keats
Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
John Keats
And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
John Keats
A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
John Keats
... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved, And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
John Keats
You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
John Keats
Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
John Keats
The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
John Keats
Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
John Keats
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
John Keats
Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
John Keats
Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
John Keats
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
John Keats
Ay, on the shores of darkness there is a light, and precipices show untrodden green there is a budding morrow in midnight there is triple sight in blindness keen.
John Keats
'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
John Keats
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
John Keats
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
John Keats
A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
John Keats