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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine - Unweave a rainbow.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Mystery
Philosopher
Line
Wings
Philosophy
Angel
Clip
Lines
Rule
Haunted
Mines
Texture
Mine
Mysteries
Air
Rainbow
Empty
Conquer
More quotes by John Keats
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
John Keats
I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
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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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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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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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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.
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The air is all softness.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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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.
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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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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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Works of genius are the first things in the world.
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... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved, And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
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When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
John Keats