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All writing is a form of prayer.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Prayer
Form
Writing

More quotes by John Keats

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My friends should drink a dozen of Claret on my Tomb.
John Keats
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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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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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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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It is a flaw In happiness to see beyond our bourn, - It forces us in summer skies to mourn, It spoils the singing of the nightingale.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
John Keats
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Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
John Keats
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So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope! celestial influence round me shed Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head.
John Keats
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The air is all softness.
John Keats
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
John Keats
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
John Keats
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How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
John Keats
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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.
John Keats
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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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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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A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity he is continually informing and filling some other body.
John Keats
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How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.
John Keats