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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Dragons
Sleeping
Fears
Sleep
Words
Around
Beset
Hurried
More quotes by John Keats
Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.
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The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
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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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You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
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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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The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
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Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
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O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,-- Nature's observatory--whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
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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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No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures Than I began to think of rhymes and measures: The air that floated by me seem'd to say 'Write! thou wilt never have a better day.
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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