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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
Littles
Little
Never
Men
Wren
Wrens
Beloved
Shall
Hurt
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Mans desires are limited by his perceptions none can desire what he has not perceived.
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The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.
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You cannot have Liberty in this world without what you call Moral Virtue, and you cannot have Moral Virtue without the slavery of that half of the human race who hate what you call Moral Virtue.
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To create a little flower is the labour of ages.
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Heaven is in a grain of sand.
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Bring me my bow of burning gold: Bring me my arrows of desire: Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire.
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One law for the lion and ox is oppression.
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Where any view of money exists, art cannot be carried on.
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Rome & Greece swept Art into their maw & destroy'd it a Warlike State never can produce Art. It will Rob & Plunder & accumulate into one place, & Translate & Copy & Buy & Sell & Criticize, but not Make.
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A dog starv'd at the master's gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A horse misus'd upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear, A skylark wounded on the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing.
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Grown old in love from seven till seven times seven,I oft have wished for Hell for ease from Heaven.
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Art is the tree of life. Science is the tree of death.
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Naught can deform the human race Like to the armor's iron brace.
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The soul of sweet delight, can never be defiled.
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To generalize is to be an idiot.
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I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.
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If you would help another man, you must do so in minute particulars.
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My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white White as an angel is the English child, But I am black as if bereaved of light.
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