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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
World
Till
Chaos
Glad
Rest
Shall
Sure
Brutal
Thing
Grave
Never
Graves

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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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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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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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Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art-- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.
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Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.
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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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