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Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Percy Bysshe Shelley
Age: 29 †
Born: 1792
Born: August 4
Died: 1822
Died: July 8
Linguist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Percy Byssche Shelley
Percy Shelley
Shelli Persi Bish
Cold
Within
Hope
Living
Swarm
Like
Swarms
Worms
Clay
Hopes

More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.
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The great secret of morals is Love or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own.
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Love's very pain is sweet, But its reward is in the world divine Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.
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... Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
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Those who love not their fellow-beings live unfruitful lives, and prepare for their old age a miserable grave.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark--now glittering--now reflecting gloom-- Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality it strikes at the root of all domestic happiness, and consigns more than half of the human race to misery.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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... a wild dissolving bliss Over my frame he breathed, approaching near, And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness Near mine, and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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How beautiful is sunset when the glow Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee, Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
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When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid - in which case all comment is superfluous - or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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O cease! must hate and death return, Cease! must men kill and die? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Woe is me! The winged words on which my soul would pierce Into the heights of love's rare universe, Are chains of lead around its flight of fire-- I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Know ye what it is to be a child? It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of baptism it is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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O! I burn with impatience for the moment of the dissolution of intolerance it has injured me.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Man has no right to kill his brother. It is no excuse that he does so in uniform: he only adds the infamy of servitude to the crime of murder.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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And many an ante-natal tomb Where butterflies dream of the life to come.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Worlds on worlds are rolling ever From creation to decay, Like the bubbles on a river Sparkling, bursting, borne away.
Percy Bysshe Shelley