John Keats

Scenery is fine -but human nature is finer

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

But this is human life: the war, the deeds, The disappointment, the anxiety, Imagination__ struggles, far and nigh,All human; bearing in themselves this good, That they are still the air, the subtle food, To make us feel existence. -Keats, EndymionThis is the __oal_ of the soul path _ to feel existence; not to overcome life__ struggles and anxieties, but to know life first hand, to exist fully in context. (Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul, p.260)

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter

O that our dreamings all, of sleep or wake, Would all their colours from the sunset take.

I have been astonished that men could die martyrsfor their religion--I have shuddered at it,I shudder no more.I could be martyred for my religion.Love is my religionand I could die for that.I could die for you.My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.

Here lies one whose name was writ on water.

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

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by skeptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were.

Nothing ever becomes real till experienced _ even a proverb is no proverb until your life has illustrated it

Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.

I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one filled with hatreds cannot be vain, neither can he be wise.

My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.