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Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
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
Faces
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Desire
Desires
Wiles
Littles
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Babyhood
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Babe
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Trace
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Smiles
Secret
Infant
Face
Joys
More quotes by William Blake
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
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He who pretends to be either painter or engraver without being a master of drawing is an imposter.
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Christ's crucifix shall be made an excuse for executing criminals.
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All pictures that's painted with sense and with thought / Are painted by madmen as sure as a groat / For the greater the fool in the pencil more blest, / And when they are drunk they always paint best.
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The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after death of the vegetative body.
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He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
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I see the Past, Present & Future existing all at once Before me.
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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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Jesus & his apostles & disciples were all artists
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When I tell the truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those that do.
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Prisons are built with stones of Law. Brothels with the bricks of religion.
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Commerce is so far from being beneficial to arts, or to empire, that it is destructive of both, as all their history shows, for the above reason of individual merit being its great hatred. Empires flourish till they become commercial, and then they are scattered abroad to the four winds.
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I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill
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It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted.
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To cast aside from Poetry, all that is not Inspiration
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Dip him in the river who loves water.
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Each man must create his own system or else he is a slave to another mans
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May God us keep From Single vision and Newton's sleep.
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What seems to be, is, to those to whom it seems to be, and is productive of the most dreadful consequences to those to whom it seems to be, even of torments, despair, eternal death.
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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
