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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
Spear
Spears
Reminds
Relationship
Goes
Everything
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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.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu
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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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I find I cannot exist without Poetry
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!
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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 leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
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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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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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Blessed is the healthy nature it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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