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Music's golden tongue Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Flatter
Aged
Golden
Tongue
Tears
Poor
Music
Men

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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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The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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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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No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
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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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The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
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O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
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I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow 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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But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!
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There is a budding tomorrow in midnight.
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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