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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?
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Would
Famous
Fame
Among
Wish
Throng
Lost
Individually
Littles
Commonplace
Little
Crowd
Made
Crowds
More quotes by John Keats
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
John Keats
It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.
John Keats
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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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
I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
John Keats
Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
John Keats
You are always new to me.
John Keats
You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
John Keats
A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity he is continually informing and filling some other body.
John Keats
... 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.
John Keats
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
John Keats
To bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty
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Time, that aged nurse, Rocked me to patience.
John Keats
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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So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope! celestial influence round me shed Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head.
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Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.
John Keats
I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
John Keats
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . .
John Keats