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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

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It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man's life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
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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!
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How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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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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The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
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one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
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Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
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Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.
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And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
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You are always new to me.
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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.
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Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine?
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A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
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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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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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