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Man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.

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
Things
Caverns
Men
Infinity
Narrow
Closed
Till
Sees
Cavern
Perception
Thro
Seeing
Chinks

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Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
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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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A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there's more conversation.
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The Old and New Testaments are the Great Code of Art.
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thus men forgot that all deities reside in the human breast.
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In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
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Drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead.
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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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We are here to learn to endure the beams of love
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For where'er the sun does shine, And where'er the rain does fall, Babe can never hunger there, Nor poverty the mind appall.
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Poetry, Painting & Music, the three Powers in man of conversing with Paradise, which the flood did not sweep away.
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The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
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Celebrate your existence!
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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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All the destruction in Christian Europe has arisen from deism, which is natural religion.
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Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
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Desperate remorse swallows the present in a quenchless rage.
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How can a bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?
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What has reasoning to do with painting?
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Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
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