Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
John Keats
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Heart
Numbness
Pains
Ache
Drunk
Sadness
Though
Hemlock
Pain
Aches
Sense
Drowsy
More quotes by John Keats
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
John Keats
The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
John Keats
And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
John Keats
Works of genius are the first things in the world.
John Keats
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.
John Keats
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
John Keats
In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
John Keats
Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
John Keats
You are always new to me.
John Keats
What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
John Keats
Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
John Keats
O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
John Keats
You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
John Keats
All writing is a form of prayer.
John Keats
There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
John Keats
Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
John Keats
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.
John Keats
No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
John Keats
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
John Keats
Ay, on the shores of darkness there is a light, and precipices show untrodden green there is a budding morrow in midnight there is triple sight in blindness keen.
John Keats