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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.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Writing
Thing
World
Convinced
Fine
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More quotes by John Keats
So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
John Keats
I find I cannot exist without Poetry
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.
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I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one filled with hatreds cannot be vain, neither can he be wise.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.
John Keats
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
John Keats
You speak of Lord Byron and me there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
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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?
John Keats
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
John Keats
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.
John Keats
It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.
John Keats
An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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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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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!
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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.
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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
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