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Its better to lose your ego to the One you Love than to lose the One you Love to your Ego
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Ego
Lose
Loses
Better
Love
More quotes by John Keats
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them thou has thy music too.
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Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
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To bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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That which is creative must create itself.
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The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
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I find I cannot exist without Poetry
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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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Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
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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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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?
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He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
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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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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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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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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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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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