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Christ's crucifix shall be made an excuse for executing criminals.
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
Judging
Shall
Christ
Made
Crucifix
Executing
Criminals
Excuse
More quotes by William Blake
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming o'er the joys of night.Sleep, sleep: in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep.
William Blake
Listen to the fool's reproach! It is a kingly title!
William Blake
He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men.
William Blake
There is a smile of love, And there is a smile of deceit, And there is a smile of smiles In which these two smiles meet.
William Blake
Man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.
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Ages are All Equal. / But Genius is Always Above The Age.
William Blake
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
William Blake
The person who does not believe in miracles surely makes it certain that he or she will never take part in one.
William Blake
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
William Blake
Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
William Blake
The imagination is not a state: it is the human existence itself.
William Blake
He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars: general Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite, and flatterer, for Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.
William Blake
A skylark wounded in the wing, / A cherubim does cease to sing.
William Blake
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
William Blake
To my eye Rubens' colouring is most contemptible. His shadows are a filthy brown somewhat the colour of excrement.
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Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.
William Blake
The lamb misused breeds public strife And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
William Blake
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake
What is now proved was once only imagined.
William Blake
The grave is Heaven's golden gate, And rich and poor around it wait O Shepherdess of England's fold, Behold this gate of pearl and gold!
William Blake