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You are always new to me.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Relationship
Always

More quotes by John Keats

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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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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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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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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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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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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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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
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Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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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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Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.
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I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
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I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
John Keats