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O God, protect me from my friends, that they have not power over me. Thou hast giv'n me power to protect myself from thy bitterest enemies.
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
Hast
Enemies
Thou
Friendship
Protect
Enemy
Friends
Power
Bitterest
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All the destruction in Christian Europe has arisen from deism, which is natural religion.
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To generalize is to be an idiot.
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Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.
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Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?
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Mercy is the golden chain by which society is bound together.
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Pride is a personal commitment. It is an attitude which separates excellence from mediocrity.
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To Chloe's breast young Cupid slily stole, But he crept in at Myra's pocket-hole.
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Gratitude is heaven itself.
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She who dwells with me whom I have loved with such communion, that no place on earth can ever be solitude to me.
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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?
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To be an Error and to be Cast out is a part of God's Design.
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The most sublime act is to set another before you.
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There is no mistake so great as the mistake of not going on.
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God and His Priest and King,...make up a heaven of our misery.
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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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Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.
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My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.
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Innate ideas are in every man, born with him they are truly himself. The man who says that we have no innate ideas must be a fool and knave, having no conscience or innate science.
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To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.
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I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine, But O, he lives in the moony light! I thought to find Love in the heat of day, But sweet Love is the comforter of night.
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