Quote

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
Eye
Burnt
Write
Yearning
Night
Shine
Beautiful
Shining
Writing
Mere
Even
Labor
Every
Morning
Labors
Upon
Fondness

More quotes by John Keats

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All writing is a form of prayer.
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Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
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And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!
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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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I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.
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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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Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
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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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I do think better of womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.
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...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.
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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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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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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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O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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