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No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Life
Grass
Feather
Summer
Stir
Air
Leafs
Dead
Leaf
Rest
Feathers
Nature
Seed
Light
Fell
Much
Seeds
Robs
More quotes by John Keats
Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
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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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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.
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I myself am pursuing the same instinctive course as the veriest human animal you can think of I am, however young, writing at random straining at particles of light in the midst of a great darkness without knowing the bearing of any one assertion, of any one opinion. Yet may I not in this be free from sin?
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
John Keats
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.
John Keats
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!
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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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To one who has been long in city pent, ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
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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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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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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?
John Keats