Quote

Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Young
Fill
Playmates
Enter
Columbine
Latter
Savory
Golden
Daffodil
Careful
Pines
Rose
Balm
Green
Mint
High
Baskets

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Why employ intelligent and highly paid ambassadors and then go and do their work for them? You don't buy a canary and sing yourself.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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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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Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
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Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal.
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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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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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Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.
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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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I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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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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He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
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I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
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