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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.

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
Goes
Everything
Like
Spear
Spears
Reminds

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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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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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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.
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You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
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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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... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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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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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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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity he is continually informing and filling some other body.
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . .
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
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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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Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
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Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
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As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden,- Speech is silvern, Silence is golden or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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