1
2
3
5
8
12
20
33
52
83
133
213
340
543
867
1384
2208
3346
3522
5443
5619
6757
7581
8098
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8625
8752
8832
8882
8913
8932
8945
8953
8957
8960
8962
8963
8964
8965
▲
▼
| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| a429fa8 | No power on earth has a right to take our property from us without our consent. | John Jay | ||
| bd15379 | Good government is the outcome of private virtue. | John Jay Chapman | ||
| e75937e | Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song. | John Keats | ||
| 63a7964 | Here lies one whose name was writ in water. | John Keats | ||
| 207f5cc | My chest of books divide amongst my friends. | John Keats | ||
| b3a9e5d | The sweet converse of an innocent mind. | John Keats | ||
| 24a70cc | The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream -- he awoke and found it truth. | John Keats | ||
| 5c50226 | O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts! | John Keats | ||
| 71bec72 | They will explain themselves -- as all poems should do without any comment. | John Keats | ||
| 1036401 | Works of genius are the first things in this world. | John Keats | ||
| 0985ab2 | Scenery is fine -- but human nature is finer. | John Keats | ||
| 4e77b4a | Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer. | John Keats | ||
| 29148b9 | There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality. | John Keats | ||
| 01a1d86 | I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death. | John Keats | ||
| c6913bb | Call the world if you please "The vale of soul-making." | John Keats | ||
| 1fedc32 | I have nothing to speak of but my self-and what can I say but what I feel | John Keats | ||
| 1cd56da | I can scarcely bid you good-bye, even in a letter. I always made an awkward bow. God bless you! | John Keats | ||
| 7553a07 | Open afresh your round of starry folds,Ye ardent marigolds! | John Keats | ||
| a700ffc | Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain,Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of fancies. | John Keats | ||
| 64f999c | E'en like the passage of an angel's tearThat falls through the clear ether silently. | John Keats | ||
| 1325db5 | The poetry of earth is never dead. | John Keats | ||
| c7f6898 | Time, that aged nurse,Rocked me to patience. | John Keats | ||
| f7f95bf | Pleasure is oft a visitant; but painClings cruelly to us. | John Keats | ||
| ba08c73 | 'Tis the pestOf love, that fairest joys give most unrest. | John Keats | ||
| 6e59f80 | So many, and so many, and such glee. | John Keats | ||
| 85707dc | That large utterance of the early gods! | John Keats | ||
| 4300f0d | The days of peace and slumberous calm are fled. | John Keats | ||
| 708e487 | Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. | John Keats | ||
| 5acf043 | Love in a hut, with water and a crust,Is -- Love, forgive us! -- cinders, ashes, dust. | John Keats | ||
| 11482ab | For cruel 'tis," said she,"To steal my Basil-pot away from me." | John Keats | ||
| 3f0ed13 | So let me be thy choir, and make a moanUpon the midnight hours | John Keats | ||
| a469cba | Music's golden tongueFlatter'd to tears this aged man and poor. | John Keats | ||
| a662ae8 | The silver snarling trumpets 'gan to chide. | John Keats | ||
| c2d3d5b | The music, yearning like a God in pain. | John Keats | ||
| 83feee1 | A poor, weak, palsy-stricken, churchyard thing. | John Keats | ||
| 63f844c | As though a rose should shut and be a bud again. | John Keats | ||
| b85cacf | And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender'd. | John Keats | ||
| 7d3c7e1 | He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,In Provence call'd "La belle dame sans mercy." | John Keats | ||
| c3aa3fb | And they are gone: ay, ages long agoThese lovers fled away into the storm. | John Keats | ||
| 1b30735 | Already with thee! tender is the night. | John Keats | ||
| d95f637 | Forlorn! the very word is like a bellTo toil me back from thee to my sole self! | John Keats | ||
| dbe563c | Was it a vision, or a waking dream?Fled is that music: -- Do I wake or sleep? | John Keats | ||
| c897783 | You roll back the stones, and you find slithering things. That is the world of Richard Nixon. | John Kenneth Galbraith | ||
| 774b0be | Meetings are a great trap. ... they are indispensable when you don't want to do anything. | John Kenneth Galbraith |