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Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Dream
Wherewith
Sect
Weave
Sects
Fanaticism
Fanatics
Paradise
Dreams

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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
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When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter therefore, ye soft pipes, play on Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
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Time, that aged nurse, Rocked me to patience.
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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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A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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When I have fears that I may ceace to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain.
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I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.
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The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness.
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No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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That which is creative must create itself.
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Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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My friends should drink a dozen of Claret on my Tomb.
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I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.
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