Quote

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

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
War
Shapes
Sight
Whiteness
Flower
Charms
Arms
Faded
Beauty
Warmth
Eyes
Charm
Eye
Paradise
Voice
Shape

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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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Ay, on the shores of darkness there is a light, and precipices show untrodden green there is a budding morrow in midnight there is triple sight in blindness keen.
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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Why employ intelligent and highly paid ambassadors and then go and do their work for them? You don't buy a canary and sing yourself.
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How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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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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You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest the last smile the brightest the last movement the gracefullest.
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And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!
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Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
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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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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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Call the world if you please the vale of soul-making. Then you will find out the use of the world.
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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.
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...I leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
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The air is all softness.
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