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I love hanging and drawing and quartering Every bit as well as war and slaughtering.
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
Bits
War
Wells
Well
Every
Love
Slaughtering
Hanging
Drawing
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If a thing loves, it is infinite.
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Prisons are built with stones of Law. Brothels with the bricks of religion.
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You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.
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Forgive what you do not approve & love me for this energetic exertion of my talent
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Make your own rules or be a slave to another man's.
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Such, such were the joys When we all, girls and boys, In our youth time were seen On the Echoing Green.
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The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.
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Both read the Bible day and night, but thou read black where I read white.
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Truth can never be told so as to be understood and not be believed.
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Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.
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In every cry of every man, In every infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.
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None but blockheads copy each other.
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Prudence is a rich, ugly, old maid courted by incapacity.
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I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
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