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Struggling in my father's hands, Striving against my swaddling bands, Bound and weary, I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast.
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
Hands
Bound
Thought
Bounds
Sulk
Best
Strive
Striving
Band
Breast
Struggle
Struggling
Upon
Weary
Father
Bands
Mother
Breasts
More quotes by William Blake
Every man who is not an artist is a traitor to his own nature.
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Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!
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England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy sister calls! Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death And close her from thy ancient walls?
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And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every Child may joy to hear.
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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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The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow
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I'm sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.
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One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.
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The hours of folly are measured by the clock but of wisdom, no clock can measure.
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General good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocite, flatterer.
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I have mental joys and mental health, Mental friends and mental wealth, I've a wife that I love and that loves me I've all but riches bodily.
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Where there is money there is no art.
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A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
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Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed.
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Wisdom is sold in a desolate marketplace where none can come to buy.
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Dip him in the river who loves water.
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Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments let us taste Thy morn and evening breath scatter thy pearls Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
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When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree
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Active Evil is better than Passive Good.
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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.
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