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A tyrant is the worst disease, and the cause of all others.

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
Others
Tyrant
Tyrants
Tyranny
Disease
Cause
Worst
Causes

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That the Jews assumed a right exclusively to the benefits of God will be a lasting witness against them and the same will it be against Christians.
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God forbid that Truth should be confined to Mathematical Demonstration!
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The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after death of the vegetative body.
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As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.
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We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them.
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Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
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The inquiry in England is not whether a man has talents and genius, but whether he is passive and polite and a virtuous ass and obedient to noblemen's opinions in art and science. If he is, he is a good man. If not, he must be starved.
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Want of money and the distress of a thief can never be alleged as the cause of his thieving, for many honest people endure greater hardships with fortitude. We must therefore seek the cause elsewhere than in want of money, for that is the miser's passion, not the thief s.
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The Errors of a Wise Man make your Rule Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
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Time is the Mercy of Eternity
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Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.
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The voice of honest indignation is the voice of God.
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How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!
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Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks: He withers all in silence, and his hand Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
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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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May God us keep From Single vision and Newton's sleep.
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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.
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They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.
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Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share?
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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!
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