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Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.
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
Destroyed
Poetry
Painting
Race
Fettered
Nations
Fetters
Music
Flourishing
Human
Flourish
Humans
Proportion
More quotes by William Blake
Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
William Blake
Mans desires are limited by his perceptions none can desire what he has not perceived.
William Blake
Although wine when it is read somewhat lacks the savour of wine when it is drunk, wine remains a very pleasant thing both to read about and to chat about.
William Blake
You smile with pomp and rigor, you talk of benevolence and virtue I act with benevolence and virtue and get murdered time after time.
William Blake
As we are, so we see.
William Blake
The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
William Blake
Forgive what you do not approve & love me for this energetic exertion of my talent
William Blake
The atoms of Democritus And Newton's particles of light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.
William Blake
Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.
William Blake
He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
William Blake
Demonstration, similitude & harmony are objects of reasoning. Invention, identity & melody are objects of intuition.
William Blake
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
William Blake
Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!
William Blake
The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could perceive.
William Blake
Each man is haunted until his humanity awakens.
William Blake
To generalize is to be an idiot.
William Blake
The difference between a bad artist and a good one is: the bad artist seems to copy a great deal the good one really does.
William Blake
Knowledge is Life with wings
William Blake
When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree
William Blake
Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?
William Blake