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Work up imagination to the state of vision.

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
Vision
Imagination
State
States
Work

More quotes by William Blake

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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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If you trap the moment before it's ripe, The tears of repentence you'll certainly wipe But if once you let the ripe moment go You can never wipe off the tears of woe.
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We are here to learn to endure the beams of love
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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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Sooner strangle an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.
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Drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead.
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Jesus & his apostles & disciples were all artists
William Blake
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Man has no Body distinct from his Soul for that called Body is a portion of Soul discerned by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age.
William Blake
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Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks: He withers all in silence, and his hand Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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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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Then my verse I dishonor, my pictures despise, my person degrade and my temper chastise and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame and my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.
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There is no mistake so great as the mistake of not going on.
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You throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again.
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thus men forgot that all deities reside in the human breast.
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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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When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.
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Travelers repose and dream among my leaves.
William Blake
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Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.
William Blake
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Although wine when it is read somewhat lacks the savour of wine when it is drunk, wine remains a very pleasant thing both to read about and to chat about.
William Blake