Explore Quotes by John Keats

O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!

I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever

I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.

Blessed is the healthy nature; it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!

The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.

It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man's life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.

I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.

O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!

There is a budding morrow in midnight.

Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;_x000D__x000D_And mid-May's eldest child,_x000D__x000D_The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,_x000D__x000D_The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.

O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings

The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.

Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.

A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving in a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore; it’s to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out. It is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery.

I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!

It is a flaw In happiness to see beyond our bourn, - It forces us in summer skies to mourn, It spoils the singing of the nightingale.

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

This Grave contains all that was Mortal of a Young English Poet Who on his Death Bed in the Bitterness of his Heart at the Malicious Power of his Enemies Desired these words to be engraved on his Tomb Stone "Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water."

What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?