Quotes from John Keats

How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.

...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.

What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth.

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.

Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.

My spirit is too weak--mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagin'd pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick Eagle looking at the sky.

Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.

There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.

Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one!

Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.

Here lies one whose name was writ on water.

The excellence of every Art is its intensity.

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.

If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; It will never Pass into nothingness.

I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.

O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!

Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad…

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour...

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you for the first time...Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you.

Thou art a dreaming thing, A fever of thyself.

You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.

We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.