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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Time
Measure
Seasons
Minds
Four
Year
Mind
Years
Men
Fill
More quotes by John Keats
O, sorrow! Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
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And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
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O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever
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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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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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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
John Keats
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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My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
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There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify - so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
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one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
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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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We must repeat the often repeated saying, that it is unworthy a religious man to view an irreligious one either with alarm or aversion, or with any other feeling than regret and hope and brotherly commiseration.
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So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
John Keats