Quote

Not the swart Pariah in some Indian grove, Lone, lean, and hunted by his brother's hate, Hath drunk so deep the cup of bitter fate As that poor wretch who cannot, cannot love: He bears a load which nothing can remove, A killing, withering weight.

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
Fate
Cups
Wretch
Brother
Remove
Withering
Deep
Indian
Grove
Poor
Drunk
Hunted
Hate
Bitter
Lone
Cannot
Killing
Lean
Nothing
Bears
Load
Pariah
Love
Weight
Hath
Pariahs

More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present the words which express what they understand not the trumpets which sing to battle, and feel not what they inspire the influence which is moved not, but moves. Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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
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Contemporary criticism only represents the amount of ignorance genius has to contend with. . . . Time will reverse the judgement of the vulgar.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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
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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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And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade, All disguised, even to the eyes, Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea - What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
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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Gold is a living god and rules in scorn, All earthly things but virtue.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead - When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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To be omnipotent but friendless is to reign.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Religion pervades intensely the whole frame of society, and is according to the temper of the mind which it inhabits, a passion, a persuasion, an excuse, a refuge never a check.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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
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Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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My father Time is weak and gray With waiting for a better day See how idiot-like he stands, Fumbling with his palsied hands!
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