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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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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
Desire
Curtains
Littles
Tender
Little
Restraint
Burning
Bed
Flesh
Youthful
Boys
Curb
Upon
Curtain
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To create a little flower is the labour of ages.
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I must create a system, or be enslav'd by another man's.
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I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
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Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.
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Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.
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He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars: general Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite, and flatterer, for Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.
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The world of imagination is the world of eternity.
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When a Man has Married a WifeHe finds out whetherHer Knees & elbows are onlyglued together.
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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.
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The Errors of a Wise Man make your Rule Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
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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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The ignorant Insults of Individuals will not hinder me from doing my duty to my Art
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Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind.
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Bring me my bow of burning gold: Bring me my arrows of desire: Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire.
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It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.
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The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.
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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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To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.
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You smile with pomp and rigor, you talk of benevolence and virtue I act with benevolence and virtue and get murdered time after time.
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Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.
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