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He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men.
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
Wrens
Beloved
Shall
Hurt
Littles
Little
Never
Men
Wren
More quotes by William Blake
Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
William Blake
A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
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Invention depends altogether upon execution or organization as that is right or wrong so is the invention perfect or imperfect.
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
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Hindsight is a wonderful thing but foresight is better, especially when it comes to saving life, or some pain!
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Christ's crucifix shall be made an excuse for executing criminals.
William Blake
General good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocite, flatterer.
William Blake
Joy and woe are woven fine.
William Blake
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.
William Blake
All wholesome food is caught without a net or trap.
William Blake
Men are admitted into heaven not because they have curbed and governed their passions or have no passions, but because they have cultivated their understandings. The treasures of heaven are not negations of passion, but realities of intellect, from which all the passions emanate uncurbed in their eternal glory.
William Blake
Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.
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Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs the unwilling. And being restrain'd it by degrees becomes passive till it is only the shadow of desire.
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And is he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present ease or gratification
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Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share?
William Blake
The voice of honest indignation is the voice of God.
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The world of imagination is the world of eternity.
William Blake
The busy bee has no time for sorrow.
William Blake
Nature has no outline. Imagination has.
William Blake
Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding-sheet When I my grave have made Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I'll lie as cold as clay. True love doth pass away!
William Blake
