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Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
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
Years
Woe
Returns
Winter
Grief
Return
Year
Gone
Come
Revolving
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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
The nature of a narrow and malevolent spirit is so essentially incompatible with happiness as to render it inaccessible to the influences of the benignant God.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
As belief is a passion of the mind, no degree of criminality is attachable to disbelief.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
There is no real wealth but the labour of man. Were the mountains of gold and the valleys of silver, the world would not be one grain of corn the richer no one comfort would be added to the human race.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
A Christian, a Deist, a Turk, and a Jew, have equal rights: they are men and brethren.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The soul's joy lies in doing.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The allegory of Adam and Eve eating of the tree of evil, and entailing upon their posterity the wrath of God and the loss of everlasting life, admits of no other explanation than the disease and crime that have flowed from unnatural diet.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Rulers, who neither see, nor feel, nor know, but leech-like to their fainting country cling, till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow, - a people starved and stabbed in the untilled field.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
How beautiful is sunset when the glow Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee, Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
He has outsoared the shadow of our night envy and calumny and hate and pain, and that unrest which men miscall delight, can touch him not and torture not again from the contagion of the world's slow stain, he is secure.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
What is Freedom? ye can tell That which slavery is, too well For its very name has grown To an echo of your own.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Underneath Day's azure eyes, Ocean's nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destined halls
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Galilean is not a favorite of mine. So far from owing him any thanks for his favor, I cannot avoid confessing that I owe a secret grudge to his carpentership.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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
His fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
So soon as this want or power [of love] is dead, man becomes the living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of what once he was.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Their errors have been weighed and found to have been dust in the balance if their sins were as scarlet, they are now white as snow: they have been washed in the blood of the mediator and the redeemer, Time.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
