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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Away
Dissolve
Fade
Fades
Quite
Forget
More quotes by John Keats
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
All writing is a form of prayer.
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I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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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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Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
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The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness.
John Keats
The opinion I have of the generality of women--who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a sugar plum than my time, forms a barrier against matrimony which I rejoice in.
John Keats
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!
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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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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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Load every rift with ore.
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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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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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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.
John Keats
Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?
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Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.
John Keats