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The hand of Vengeance found the Bed To which the Purple Tyrant fled The iron hand crush'd the tyrant's head And became Tyrant in his stead.
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
Bed
Stead
Became
Fled
Head
Tyrant
Hand
Vengeance
Found
Purple
Hands
Tyrants
Crush
Iron
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To be an Error and to be Cast out is a part of God's Design.
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Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.
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The fox provides for himself, but God provides for the lion.
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Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so? He replied, All poets believe it does. And in ages of imagination, this firm persuasion removes mountains but many are not capable of firm persuasion of anything.
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Painters are noted for being dissipated and wild.
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Children of the future age Reading this indignant page Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime
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The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.
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One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.
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Wisdom is sold in a desolate marketplace where none can come to buy.
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Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.
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Rome & Greece swept Art into their maw & destroy'd it a Warlike State never can produce Art. It will Rob & Plunder & accumulate into one place, & Translate & Copy & Buy & Sell & Criticize, but not Make.
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Active Evil is better than Passive Good.
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Exuberance is beauty.
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He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
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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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There can be no Good Will. Will is always Evil it is persecution to others or selfishness.
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
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Listen to the fool's reproach! It is a kingly title!
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There is no mistake so great as the mistake of not going on.
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He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
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