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He who loves his enemies betrays his friends this surely is not what Jesus meant.

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
Enemies
Loves
Meant
Enemy
Friends
Betrays
Jesus
Betrayal
Betray
Surely

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A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.
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Gratitude is heaven itself there could be no heaven without gratitude.
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The Vision of Christ that thou dost see, Is my vision's greatest enemy. Thine is the Friend of all Mankind, Mine speaks in Parables to the blind. Thine loves the same world that mine hates, Thy heaven-doors are my hell gates.
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Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
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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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Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
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Naught can deform the human race Like to the armor's iron brace.
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Gratitude is heaven itself.
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I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill
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The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
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I am under the direction of messengers from Heaven daily and nightly.
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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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As we are, so we see.
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Execution is the chariot of genius.
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O white-robed Angel, guide my timorous hand to write as on a lofty rock with iron pen the words of truth, that all who pass may read.
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As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs.
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I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world's release.
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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 care not whether a man is good or evil all that I care / Is whether he is a wise man or a fool. Go! put off holiness, / And put on intellect.
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If you trap the moment before it's ripe, The tears of repentence you'll certainly wipe But if once you let the ripe moment go You can never wipe off the tears of woe.
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