Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine -… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I myself am pursuing the same instinctive course as the veriest human animal you can think of I am, however young, writing… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the… — John Keats Copy Share Image
No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures Than I began to think of rhymes and measures: The air that floated by… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Let me write not for fame and laurel, but from the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful even if… — 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
