Quote

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

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Heaven
Rainbow
Common
Injury
Given
Depression
Things
Dull
Woof
Awful
Catalogue
Wings
Catalogues
Angel
Clip
Philosophy
Texture

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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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The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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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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When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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... 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.
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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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My friends should drink a dozen of Claret on my Tomb.
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Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them thou has thy music too.
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There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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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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I have so much of you in my heart.
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