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Then my verse I dishonor, my pictures despise, my person degrade and my temper chastise and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame and my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.

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
Shame
Pencils
Despair
Verses
Fame
Talents
Chastise
Talent
Pens
Dishonor
Dead
Despise
Degrade
Persons
Temper
Bury
Person
Pictures
Pencil
Terror
Verse

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Pride is a personal commitment. It is an attitude which separates excellence from mediocrity.
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Exuberance is beauty.
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The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword, are portions of eternity, too great for the eye of man.
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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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Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !
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Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed.
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None but blockheads copy each other.
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The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow
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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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I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
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The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks.
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Where any view of money exists, art cannot be carried on.
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Invention depends altogether upon execution or organization as that is right or wrong so is the invention perfect or imperfect.
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Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments let us taste Thy morn and evening breath scatter thy pearls Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
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I am in you and you in me, mutual in divine love.
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The worship of God is, Honouring his gifts in other men each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best those who envy or calumniate great men hate God, for there is no other God.
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One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.
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For the Eye altering alters all The Senses roll themselves in fear And the flat Earth becomes a Ball.
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Hold infinity in the palm of your hand.
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Art degraded, Imagination denied.
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