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The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Percy Bysshe Shelley
Age: 29 †
Born: 1792
Born: August 4
Died: 1822
Died: July 8
Linguist
Novelist
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Percy Byssche Shelley
Percy Shelley
Shelli Persi Bish
Might
Ruins
Make
Winter
Among
Violets
Love
Sweet
Daisies
Think
Open
Cemetery
Thinking
Space
Violet
Death
Buried
Place
Covered
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I love tranquil solitude And such society As is quiet, wise, and good.
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It is easier to suppose that the universe has existed for all eternity than to conceive a being beyond its limits capable of creating it.
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Narrow The heart that loves, the brain that contemplates, The life that wears, the spirit that creates One object, and one form, and builds thereby A sepulchre for its eternity.
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Ah! what a divine religion might be found out if charity were really made the principle of it instead of faith.
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The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.
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To hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The encomium of one incapable of flattery is indeed flattering.
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True love in this differs from gold and clay, that to divide is not to take away. Love is like understanding, that grows bright, gazing on many truths.
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Thus suicidal selfishness, that blights The fairest feelings of the opening heart, Is destined to decay, whilst from the soil Shall spring all virtue, all delight, all love, And judgment cease to wage unnatural war With passion's unsubduable array.
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Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
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I Fall upon the thorns of life.
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The wise want love and those who love want wisdom.
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It were much better that a sentient being should never have existed, than that it should have existed only to endure unmitigated misery.
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For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower Radiance and odour are not its dower It loves, even like Love, its deep heart is full, It desires what it has not, the beautiful.
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I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
A dream has power to poison sleep.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
A husband and wife ought to continue united so long as they love each other. Any law which should bind them to cohabitation for one moment after the decay of their affection would be a most intolerable tyranny, and the most unworthy of toleration.
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The breath Of accusation kills an innocent name, And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life, Which is a mask without it.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep - he hath awakened from the dream of life - 'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Near that a dusty paint-box, some odd hooks, A half-burnt match, an ivory block, three books, Where conic sections, spherics, logarithms, To great Laplace, from Saunderson and Sims, Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray Of figures,-disentangle them who may.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
