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Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.
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
Life
Gratitude
Silken
Divine
Pine
Fine
Woe
Joy
Woven
Inspirational
Clothings
Running
Clothing
Soul
Runs
Every
Grief
Twine
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One law for the lion and ox is oppression.
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
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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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The Woman that does not love your Frowns Will never embrace your smiles.
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What has reasoning to do with painting?
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The weak in courage is strong in cunning.
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Works of Art can only be produc'd in Perfection where the Man is either in Affluence or is Above the Care of it.
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Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
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Art degraded, Imagination denied.
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Prudence is a rich, ugly, old maid courted by incapacity.
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The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it.
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Acts themselves alone are history, and these are neither the exclusive property of Hume, Gibbon nor Voltaire, Echard, Rapin, Plutarch, nor Herodotus. Tell me the Acts, O historian, and leave me to reason upon them as I please away with your reasoning and your rubbish. All that is not action is not worth reading.
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And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds and binding with briars my joys and desires. (from 'The Garden of Love')
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Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
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The fox condemns the trap, not himself.
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I am in you and you in me, mutual in divine love.
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Where there is money there is no art.
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He who sees the Infinite in all things sees God.
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He who does not imagine in stronger and better lineaments, and in stronger and better light than his perishing and mortal eye can see, does not imagine at all.
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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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