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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.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Ever
Delight
Years
Summer
Love
Marriage
Summertime
Days
Butterflies
Almost
Contain
Common
Butterfly
Wish
Fill
Three
Fifty
More quotes by John Keats
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.
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No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
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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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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
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I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one filled with hatreds cannot be vain, neither can he be wise.
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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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Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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Load every rift with ore.
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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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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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A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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