Quote

How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!

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
Notes
Ancient
Move
Languid
Sound
Bards
Force
Scarcely
Moving
Strings
Left
Forced
Love
Enjoyed

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A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.
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If you, who are organised by Divine Providence for spiritual communion, refuse, and bury your talent in the earth, even though you should want natural bread, sorrow and desperation pursue you through life, and after death shame and confusion of face to eternity.
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Joy and woe are woven fine.
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Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.
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There can be no Good Will. Will is always Evil it is persecution to others or selfishness.
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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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We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them.
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The cistern contains: The fountain overflows.
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When Sir Joshua Reynolds died All Nature was degraded The King dropped a tear in the Queen's ear, And all his pictures faded.
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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
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The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
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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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O white-robed Angel, guide my timorous hand to write as on a lofty rock with iron pen the words of truth, that all who pass may read.
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I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world's release.
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