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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Violet
Secrecy
Queen
Queens
Flower
More quotes by John Keats
The opinion I have of the generality of women--who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a sugar plum than my time, forms a barrier against matrimony which I rejoice in.
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And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
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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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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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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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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
John Keats
We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.
John Keats
What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
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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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...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.
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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.
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The air is all softness.
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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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The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
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The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
John Keats