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When the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire somewhat like a guinea? O no, no, I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host crying Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.
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
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Almighty
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Crying
Fire
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More quotes by William Blake
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
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The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:While the Lily white shall in love delight,Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
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The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
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Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.
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What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.
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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.
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In your own bosom you bear your heaven and earth, And all you behold, though it appears without, It is within, in your imagination, Of which this world of mortality is but a shadow.
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Struggling in my father's hands, Striving against my swaddling bands, Bound and weary, I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast.
William Blake
If Christianity was morality, Socrates would be the Saviour.
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The ignorant Insults of Individuals will not hinder me from doing my duty to my Art
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My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.
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Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
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Since the French Revolution Englishmen are all intermeasurable one by another, certainly a happy state of agreement to which I forone do not agree.
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I love hanging and drawing and quartering Every bit as well as war and slaughtering.
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It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.
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I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
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I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine, But O, he lives in the moony light! I thought to find Love in the heat of day, But sweet Love is the comforter of night.
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The ruins of time build mansions in eternity.
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O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine there hast thou build thy dark, Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
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God only acts and is, in existing beings or men.
William Blake