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The hours of folly are measured by the clock but of wisdom, no clock can measure.

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
Measured
Folly
Clock
Measure
Wisdom
Hours
Artist
Time

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Where others see but the dawn coming over the hill, I see the soul of God shouting for joy.
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The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
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I am in you and you in me, mutual in divine love.
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But if at church they would give some ale. And a pleasant fire our souls to regale. We'd sing and we'd pray all the live long day, Nor ever once from the church to stray.
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If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt, they'd immediately go out.
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Man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.
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If others had not been foolish, we should be so.
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Nothing can be more contemptible than to suppose Public Records to be true.
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Want of money and the distress of a thief can never be alleged as the cause of his thieving, for many honest people endure greater hardships with fortitude. We must therefore seek the cause elsewhere than in want of money, for that is the miser's passion, not the thief s.
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Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.
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In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.
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The busy bee has no time for sorrow.
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There is a place where Contrarieties are equally True.
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Does the Eagle know what is in the pit Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod, Or Love in a golden bowl?
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Dip him in the river who loves water.
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God and His Priest and King,...make up a heaven of our misery.
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He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
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Expect poison from the standing water.
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Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor. Mercy no more could be, If all were happy as we.
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A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.
William Blake