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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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The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
John Keats
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Darkling I listen and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Called him soft names in many a muse' d rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
John Keats
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No, no, I'm sure, My restless spirit never could endure To brood so long upon one luxury, Unless it did, though fearfully, espy A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
John Keats
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
John Keats
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The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
John Keats
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I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.
John Keats
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Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
John Keats
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I have so much of you in my heart.
John Keats
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The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
John Keats
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
John Keats
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
John Keats
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And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
John Keats
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I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.
John Keats
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A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
John Keats
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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?
John Keats
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
John Keats
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It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.
John Keats
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To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.
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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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
John Keats