Quote

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
Littles
Tender
Little
Restraint
Burning
Bed
Flesh
Youthful
Boys
Curb
Upon
Curtain
Desire
Curtains

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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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Mere enthusiasm is the all in all... / Passion and expression are beauty itself.
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[L]et light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning.
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Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
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Can I see another's woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow filled? Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be!
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The Britons (say historians) were naked, civilized men, learned, studious, abstruse in thought and contemplation naked, simple, plain in their acts and manners wiser than after ages.
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I see through my eyes, not with them.
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Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: Pipe a song about a Lamb. So I piped with merry cheer Piper, pipe that song again. So I piped he wept to hear.
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Why stand we here trembling around, calling on God for help, and not ourselves, in whom God dwells?
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Mans desires are limited by his perceptions none can desire what he has not perceived.
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The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.
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You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.
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The true method of knowledge is experiment.
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The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could perceive.
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He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.
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Naught can deform the human race Like to the armor's iron brace.
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Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.
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As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs.
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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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