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The nakedness of woman is the work of God.

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
Nakedness
Beauty
Woman
Work

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He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.
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The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.
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I was in a Printing-house in Hell, and saw the method in which knowledge is transmitted from generation to generation.
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Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.
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Pay attention to minute particulars. Take care of the little ones. Generalization and abstraction are the plea of the hypocrite, scoundrel, and knave.
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For everything exists and not one sigh nor smile nor tear, one hair nor particle of dust, not one can pass away.
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Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.
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Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born. Every Morn and every Night Some are born to Sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night.
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I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An angel came. He winked at the thief And smiled at the dame- And without one word spoke Had a peach from the tree, And 'twixt earnest and joke Enjoyed the lady.
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May God us keep From Single vision and Newton's sleep.
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Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
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The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
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One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.
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The Bat that flits at close of Eve Has left the Brain that won't believe. The Owl that calls upon the Night Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
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We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them.
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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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Dip him in the river who loves water.
William Blake
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O why was I born with a different face? Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
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Mere enthusiasm is the all in all... / Passion and expression are beauty itself.
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Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!
William Blake