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The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Graves
Never
Till
World
Chaos
Glad
Rest
Shall
Brutal
Sure
Grave
Thing

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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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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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I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!
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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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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
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There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify - so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish.
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
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