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Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
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
Sale
Sits
Smiling
Honour
Honor
Truth
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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
O world! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The intense atom glows A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
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I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
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I have drunken deep of joy.
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Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
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So is Hope Changed for Despair-one laid upon the shelf, We take the other. Under heaven's high cope Fortune is god-all you endure and do Depends on circumstance as much as you.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Death will come when thou art dead, soon, too soon.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
No more let life divide what death can join together.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sow seed--but let no tyrant reap Find wealth--let no imposter heap Weave robes--let not the idle wear Forge arms--in your defence to bear.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
To hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning.
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Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
To be omnipotent but friendless is to reign.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Nature rejects the monarch, not the man the subject, not the citizen... The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Life may change, but it may fly not Hope may vanish, but can die not Truth be veiled, but still it burneth Love repulsed, - but it returneth!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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
The breath Of accusation kills an innocent name, And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life, Which is a mask without it.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
