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Power, like a desolating pestilence, pollutes whatever it touches.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Oh lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
All of us, who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
His fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality; it strikes at the root of all domestic happiness, and consigns more than half of the human race to misery.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Have you not heard When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindoo, His best friends hear no more of him?
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
It were much better that a sentient being should never have existed, than that it should have existed only to endure unmitigated misery.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
And his own thoughts, along that rugged way Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
For there are deeds which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Poets are the unacknowledged legislatures of the world.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep! He hath awaken from the dream of life!
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley

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