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To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Else
Breath
Stills
Breaths
Swoon
Still
Sweet
Swell
Ever
Hear
Unrest
Live
Forever
Feel
Taken
Tender
Feels
Fall
Soft
Death
Awake
More quotes by John Keats
Darkling I listen and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Called him soft names in many a muse' d rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
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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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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
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
Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
John Keats
Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.
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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.
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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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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.
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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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How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they
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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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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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The air is all softness.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
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It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man's life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
John Keats
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
John Keats
Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
John Keats