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The soul of sweet delight, can never be defiled.
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
Defiled
Delight
Sweet
Artist
Soul
Never
More quotes by William Blake
The foundation of empire is art and science. Remove them or degrade them, and the empire is no more. Empire follows art and not vice versa as Englishmen suppose.
William Blake
Those who enter the gates of heaven are not beings who have no passions or who have curbed the passions, but those who have cultivated an understanding of them.
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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.
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We are here to learn to endure the beams of love
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The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
William Blake
The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.
William Blake
Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks: He withers all in silence, and his hand Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
William Blake
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
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You've always had the power right there in your shoes, you just had to learn it for yourself.
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If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.
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thus men forgot that all deities reside in the human breast.
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But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.
William Blake
On no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed.
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I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill
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Man was made for joy and woe, and when this we rightly know through the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, a clothing for the soul to bind.
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Mere enthusiasm is the all in all.
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Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
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I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me.
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Nature has no outline. Imagination has.
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You become what you behold.
William Blake