Quote

But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

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
Children
Midnight
Harlots
Curse
Blight
Abuse
Infants
Tears
Youthful
Blights
Streets
Blast
Hearse
Marriage
Plague
Blasts
Hear
Infant
Thro
Born
Tear
Plagues

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He who would do good to another must do it in minute particulars.
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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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Imitation is criticism.
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O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
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He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.
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The cistern contains: The fountain overflows.
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But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.
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The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
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Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
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Execution is the chariot of genius.
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It is the greatest of crimes to depress true art and science.
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A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there's more conversation.
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For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face: And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
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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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Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
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Innocence dwells with Wisdom, but never with ignorance.
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I'm sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.
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Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves the feet of angels bright unseen they pour blessing, and joy without ceasing, on each bud and blossom, and each sleeping bosom.
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