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A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Might
Shower
Right
Showers
Supreme
Poetry
Arms
Half
Light
Poesy
Power
Slumbering

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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
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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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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.
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it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
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Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
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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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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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Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine?
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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Why employ intelligent and highly paid ambassadors and then go and do their work for them? You don't buy a canary and sing yourself.
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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.
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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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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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