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I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Upon
Fondness
Eye
Burnt
Write
Yearning
Night
Shine
Beautiful
Shining
Writing
Mere
Even
Labor
Every
Morning
Labors

More quotes by John Keats

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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
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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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I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.
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I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.
John Keats
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O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,-- Nature's observatory--whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
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I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
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Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
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I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
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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 should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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Time, that aged nurse, Rocked me to patience.
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Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.
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Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal.
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