Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
John KeatsRead
My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
Interpretation
The quote expresses the artist's view of imagination as a sacred space for creativity and contemplation.
In this quote, John Keats illustrates the concept of imagination as a secluded and sacred space, much like a monastery. The comparison to a monk signifies dedication, discipline, and a monastic commitment to nurturing oneβs creative and imaginative abilities, suggesting that true artistry stems from such introspective exploration and solitude.
In practice
This quote can be shared in an art class to inspire students to value their imaginative processes.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
Are there not thousands in the world who love their fellows even to the death, who feel the giant agony of the world, and more, like slaves to poor humanity, labor for mortal good?
Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the Letter you must write immediately, and do all you can to console me in it β make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me βwrite the softest words and kiss them that I may at least touch my lips where yours have been. For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair.
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
...I leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
I collect my tools: sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing, intellect. Night has fallen.
Woolf wanted to say dangerous things in Orlando but she did not want to say them in the missionary position.
The telling of stories, like singing and praying, would seem to be an almost ceremonial act, an ancient and necessary mode of speech that tends the earthly rootedness of human language. For narrated events always happen somewhere. And for an oral culture, that location is never merely incidental to those occurrences. The events belong, as it were, to the place, and to tell the story of those events is to let the place itself speak through the telling.
The things we truly love, the things forming the basis and roots of our being, are generally things we never look at. A huge piece of carpeting, empty and naked plains, silent and uninterrupted stretches with nothing to alter the homogeneity of their continuity. I love wide, homogenous worlds, unstaked, unlimited like the sea, like high snows, deserts, and steppes.
All great art is revolutionary because it touches upon the reality of man and questions the reality of the various transitory forms of human society.
There is no complete spiritual life without music, for the human soul has regions which can be illuminated only by music.
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