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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Blown
Sudden
Rose
Full
Came
Thought
Flushing
Like
Brow
Brows

More quotes by John Keats

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Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
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Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
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...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.
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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
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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.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them thou has thy music too.
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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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And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
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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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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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Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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You are always new to me.
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The opinion I have of the generality of women--who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a sugar plum than my time, forms a barrier against matrimony which I rejoice in.
John Keats