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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Moments
Thought
Knell
Passings
Passing
Passion
Moment

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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
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Let us away, my love, with happy speed There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, - Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead. Awake! arise! my love and fearless be, For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee.
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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.
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Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.
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Load every rift with ore.
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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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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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O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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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.
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To bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty
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The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness.
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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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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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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I came to feel how far above All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood, All earthly pleasure, all imagined good, Was the warm tremble of a devout kiss.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?
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I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever
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