Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Neither poetry, nor ambition, nor love have any alertness of countenance as they pass by me. — John Keats Copy Share Image
If poetry does not come as naturally as leaves to a tree, then it better not come at all. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer. — John Keats Copy Share Image
I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect. — John Keats Copy Share Image
I have nothing to speak of but my self-and what can I say but what I feel — John Keats Copy Share Image
O, sorrow! Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May? — John Keats Copy Share Image
Failure is in a sense the highway to success, as each discovery of what is false leads us to seek earnestly after… — John Keats Copy Share Image
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;It's loveliness increase;it will never pass into nothingness;but still will keep a bower quiet for us,and… — John Keats Copy Share Image
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things.… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.” — John Keats Copy Share Image
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon and eve's one… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion - I have shudder'd at it. I shudder no more. I could… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth! On for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene! With… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom! — John Keats Copy Share Image
