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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
Sits
Smiling
Honour
Honor
Truth
Sale
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The crime of inquiry is one which religion never has forgiven.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The practice of utter sincerity towards other men would avail to no good end, if they were incapable of practising it towards their own minds. In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes.
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
How beautiful is sunset when the glow Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee, Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
All love is sweet, given or received.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Jesus Christ represented God as the principle of all good, the source of all happiness, the wise and benevolent Creator and Preserver of all living things. But the interpreters of his doctrines have confounded the good and the evil principle.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the belovèd's bed And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I love all waste And solitary places where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Through the sunset of hope, Like the shapes of a dream, What paradise islands of glory gleam!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset's fire.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
... a wild dissolving bliss Over my frame he breathed, approaching near, And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness Near mine, and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Joy, once lost, is pain
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Near that a dusty paint-box, some odd hooks, A half-burnt match, an ivory block, three books, Where conic sections, spherics, logarithms, To great Laplace, from Saunderson and Sims, Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray Of figures,-disentangle them who may.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
When the power of imparting joy is equal to the will, the human soul requires no other heaven.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Love, from its awful throne of patient power In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep, And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs And folds over the world its healing wings.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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
The most fertile districts of the habitable globe are now actually cultivated by men for animals, at a delay and waste of aliment absolutely incapable of calculation
Percy Bysshe Shelley
His fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
