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All futurity seems teeming with endless destruction never to be repelled Desperate remorse swallows the present in a quenchless rage.
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
Desperate
Rage
Endless
Destruction
Futurity
Present
Repelled
Future
Teeming
Seems
Swallows
Never
Remorse
More quotes by William Blake
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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And is he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present ease or gratification
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O why was I born with a different face? Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
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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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He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
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If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru chinks of his cavern.
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More! More! is the cry of a mistaken soul.
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Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !
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Praises reap not! Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not!
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Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
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To generalize is to be an idiot. To particularize is the alone distinction of merit. General knowledge are those knowledge that idiots possess.
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But if at church they would give some ale. And a pleasant fire our souls to regale. We'd sing and we'd pray all the live long day, Nor ever once from the church to stray.
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Forgive what you do not approve & love me for this energetic exertion of my talent
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Thou art a man God is no more Thy own humanity Learn to adore
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Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
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Christianity is art and not money. Money is its curse.
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Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.
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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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Shame is pride's cloak.
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The pure soul shall mount on native wings, . . . and cut a path into the heaven of glory.
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