Quotes by John Keats

“The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.”

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,The moving waters at their p...”

“Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.”

“My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again my Life seems to stop there I see no further. You have absorbd me. I have a sensation at...”

“Do not all charms fly / At the mere touch of cold philosophy?”

“But this is human life: the war, the deeds, The disappointment, the anxiety, Imaginations struggles, far and nigh,All human; bearing in themselves this good, That they are still the air, the subtle...”

“I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.”

“I have good reason to be content,for thank God I can read andperhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.”

“The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mindabout nothing -- to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.”

“I have clung To nothing, lovd a nothing, nothing seen Or felt but a great dream!”

“Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?---"On death”

“Touch has a memory.”

“Touch has a memory. O say, love, say,What can I do to kill it and be free?”

“Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breedsAlong the pebbled shore of memory!Many old rotten-timber'd boats there beUpon thy vaporous bosom, magnifiedTo goodly vessels; many a sail of pride,And gol...”

“Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,Empty the haunted air, and gnomd mineUnweave a rainbow, as it erewhile madeThe tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade”

“Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.”

“My imagination is a monastery, and I am its monk”

“Besides, a long poem is a test of invention, which I take to be the Polar star of Poetry, as Fancy is the sails - and Imagination the rudder.”

“That men, who might have tower'd in the vanOf all the congregated world, to fanAnd winnow from the coming step of timeAll chaff of custom, wipe away all slimeLeft by men-slugs and human serpentry,H...”

“I was too much in solitude, and consequently was obliged to be in continual burning of thought, as an only resource.”