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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.

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
Writing
Hand
Pens
Read
Guide
Words
Iron
White
Guides
Write
Pass
Hands
Angel
Robed
Truth
Rock
Timorous
May
Rocks
Lofty

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Mere enthusiasm is the all in all... / Passion and expression are beauty itself.
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As we are, so we see.
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One law for the lion and ox is oppression.
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I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
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The voice of honest indignation is the voice of God.
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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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How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
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The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
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In your own bosom you bear your heaven and earth, And all you behold, though it appears without, It is within, in your imagination, Of which this world of mortality is but a shadow.
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Demonstration, similitude & harmony are objects of reasoning. Invention, identity & melody are objects of intuition.
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And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.
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Thinking as I do that the Creator of this world is a very cruel being, and being a worshipper of Christ, I cannot help saying: ''the Son, O how unlike the Father!'' First God Almighty comes with a thump on the head. Then Jesus Christ comes with a balm to heal it.
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I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
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Every man who is not an artist is a traitor to his own nature.
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A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.
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Let the men do their duty & the women will be such wonders the female life lives from the light of the male: see a man's female dependants, you know the man.
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Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe, After night I do crowd, And with night will go I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increased For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain.
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He who shall teach the child to doubtThe rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
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Christ's crucifix shall be made an excuse for executing criminals.
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