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Do what you will this life's a fiction, And is made up of contradiction.
William Blake
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William Blake
Age: 69 †
Born: 1757
Born: November 28
Died: 1827
Died: August 12
Collector
Engraver
Graphic Artist
Illustrator
Lithographer
Painter
Philosopher
Poet
Printer
Theologian
London
England
W. Blake
Uil'iam Bleik
Blake
Life
World
Contradictory
Contradiction
Fiction
History
Made
More quotes by William Blake
Without minute neatness of execution, the sublime cannot exist! Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas.
William Blake
The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
William Blake
I see through my eyes, not with them.
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Bring me my bow of burning gold: Bring me my arrows of desire: Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire.
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You throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again.
William Blake
Dip him in the river who loves water.
William Blake
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy.
William Blake
The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever.
William Blake
To cast aside from Poetry, all that is not Inspiration
William Blake
It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.
William Blake
Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share?
William Blake
The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.
William Blake
A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
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If others had not been foolish, we should be so.
William Blake
Nature has no outline. Imagination has.
William Blake
O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
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[L]et light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning.
William Blake
The busy bee has no time for sorrow.
William Blake
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
William Blake
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming o'er the joys of night.Sleep, sleep: in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep.
William Blake
