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Jesus & his apostles & disciples were all artists

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
Disciples
Apostles
Disciple
Artists
Jesus
Artist

More quotes by William Blake

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Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy? Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?
William Blake
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Since the French Revolution Englishmen are all intermeasurable one by another, certainly a happy state of agreement to which I forone do not agree.
William Blake
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Then my verse I dishonor, my pictures despise, my person degrade and my temper chastise and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame and my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.
William Blake
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He who sees the Infinite in all things sees God.
William Blake
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He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
William Blake
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Eternity is in love with the productions of time.
William Blake
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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.
William Blake
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Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
William Blake
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How do you know but ev’ry Bird that cuts the airy way, Is an immense world of delight, clos’d by your senses five?
William Blake
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Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.
William Blake
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Imitation is criticism.
William Blake
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Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.
William Blake
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Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.
William Blake
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
William Blake
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Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
William Blake
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Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
William Blake
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The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
William Blake
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Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!
William Blake
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Christianity is art and not money. Money is its curse.
William Blake
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The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
William Blake