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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Great
Finer
Gradual
Purposes
Productions
Powers
Intellectual
Purpose
Nothing
Ripening

More quotes by John Keats

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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.
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As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden,- Speech is silvern, Silence is golden or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.
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It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.
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To one who has been long in city pent, ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
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A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
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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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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved, And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
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'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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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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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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No, no, I'm sure, My restless spirit never could endure To brood so long upon one luxury, Unless it did, though fearfully, espy A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
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Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.
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