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My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Love
Selfish
Breathe
Cannot
Without
More quotes by John Keats
The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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O aching time! O moments big as years!
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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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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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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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
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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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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.
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O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
John Keats
And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.
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I do think better of womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.
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The air is all softness.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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A long poem is a test of invention which I take to be the Polar star of poetry, as fancy is the sails, and imagination the rudder.
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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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