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Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Year
Root
Buds
White
Winter
Impermanence
Death
Core
Another
Roots
Bud
Young
Flower
Bloom
Years
Tears
Weep
Dying
Tear
Sleep
Shed
More quotes by John Keats
O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop From low hung branches little space they stop But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek Then off at once, as in a wanton freak: Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.
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I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.
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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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You speak of Lord Byron and me there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
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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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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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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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Blessed is the healthy nature it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
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O, sorrow! Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
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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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My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses
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She press'd his hand in slumber so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
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I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
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Let us away, my love, with happy speed There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, - Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead. Awake! arise! my love and fearless be, For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee.
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How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.
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My friends should drink a dozen of Claret on my Tomb.
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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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