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Through the sunset of hope, Like the shapes of a dream, What paradise islands of glory gleam!
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
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Percy Byssche Shelley
Percy Shelley
Shelli Persi Bish
Hope
Dream
Like
Gleam
Sunset
Islands
Paradise
Shapes
Glory
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
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Underneath Day's azure eyes, Ocean's nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destined halls
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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 could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear.
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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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Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
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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.
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Dar'st thou amid the varied multitude To live alone, an isolated thing?
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(Title: To the Moon) Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,-- And ever-changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?
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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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Peter was dull he was at first Dull - Oh, so dull - so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed - Still with his dulness was he cursed - Dull -beyond all conception - dull.
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Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
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The same means that have supported every other popular belief have supported Christianity. War, imprisonment, and falsehood deeds of unexampled and incomparable atrocity have made it what it is.
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Nature rejects the monarch, not the man the subject, not the citizen... The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
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I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me- who knows how? To thy chamber-window, Sweet!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Concerning God, freewill and destiny: Of all that earth has been or yet may be, all that vain men imagine or believe, or hope can paint or suffering may achieve, we descanted.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Tragedy delights by affording a shadow of the pleasure which exists in pain.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
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The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
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