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A thing of beauty is a joy forever: 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.
—  John Keats
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave A paradise for a sect.
—  John Keats
I mean Negative Capability, that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
—  John Keats
Happy the people whose annals are blank in history-books.
—  John Keats
Silence is deep as Eternity, speech is shallow as Time.
—  John Keats
A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
—  John Keats
In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
—  John Keats
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!
—  John Keats
How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they?
—  John Keats
We must repeat the often repeated saying, that it is unworthy a religious man to view an irreligious one either with alarm or aversion, or with any other feeling than regret and hope and brotherly commiseration.
—  John Keats
Poetry should please by a fine excess and not by singularity. It should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost as a remembrance.
—  John Keats
It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man's life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
—  John Keats
Blessed is the healthy nature; it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
—  John Keats
There is no heroic poem in the world but is at bottom a biography, the life of a man; also it may be said, there is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.
—  John Keats
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
—  John Keats
The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare.
—  John Keats
Axioms in philosophy are not axioms until they are proved upon our pulses: we read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.
—  John Keats
The excellency of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeable evaporate.
—  John Keats
We are firm believers in the maxim that for all right judgment of any man or thing it is useful, nay, essential, to see his good qualities before pronouncing on his bad.
—  John Keats
Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest man shows a grace in his quarrel.
—  John Keats
He from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd; With jellies soother thank the creamy curd, And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon; Mama and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
—  John Keats
Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
—  John Keats

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