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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Like
Load
Warmth
Immortality
Awful
Heart

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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter therefore, ye soft pipes, play on Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
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Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
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I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
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It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man's life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
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I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one filled with hatreds cannot be vain, neither can he be wise.
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The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.
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Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? ---On death
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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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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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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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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Let us away, my love, with happy speed There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, - Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead. Awake! arise! my love and fearless be, For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee.
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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
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