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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Ease
Taught
Eyes
Melodies
Eye
Breast
Dry
Breasts
Melody
Paradise

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O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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All writing is a form of prayer.
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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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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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.
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Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.
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I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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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.
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I find I cannot exist without Poetry
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There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify - so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish.
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O aching time! O moments big as years!
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The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
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