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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Path
Away
Dream
Sleepy
Time
Paths
Twilight
Buried
Summer
Dreams

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My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses
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How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
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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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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.
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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
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Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal.
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There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
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... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
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O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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...I leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
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... 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.
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When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
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