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I love Love - though he has wings, And like light can flee, But above all other things, Spirit, I love thee - Thou art love and life! Oh come, Make once more my heart thy home.

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
Like
Light
Home
Flee
Come
Thou
Heart
Thee
Make
Wings
Things
Though
Love
Spirit
Life
Art

More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Sounds of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain awaken'd flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The emptiness and folly of retaliation are apparent from every example which can be brought forward. Not only Jesus Christ, but the most eminent professors of every sect of philosophy, have reasoned against this futile superstition.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Had this author [Sir W Drummond Academical Questions, chap. iii.], instead of inveighing against the guilt and absurdity of atheism, demonstrated its falsehood, his conduct would have, been more suited to the modesty of the skeptic and the toleration of the philosopher.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Reviewers, with some rare exceptions, are a most stupid and malignant race. As a bankrupt thief turns thief-taker in despair, so an unsuccessful author turns critic.
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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And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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At the very time that philosophers of the most enterprising benevolence were founding in Greece those institutions which have rendered it the wonder and luminary of the world, am I required to believe that the weak and wicked king of an obscure and barbarous nation, a murderer, a traitor and a tyrant, was the man after God's own heart?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Power, like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whate'er it touches and obedience, Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame A mechanized automaton.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Underneath Day's azure eyes, Ocean's nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destined halls
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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O world! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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I am convinced that there can be no regeneration of mankind until laughter is put down.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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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... Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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It is true that the reluctance to abstain from animal food, in those who have been long accustomed to its stimulus, is so great in some persons of weak minds, as to be scarcely overcome but this is far from bringing any argument in its favour
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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I am gone into the fields To take what this sweet hour yields Reflection, you may come to-morrow, Sit by the fireside with Sorrow. You with the unpaid bill, Despair, You, tiresome verse-reciter, Care, I will pay you in the grave, Death will listen to your stave.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley