John Keats Quotes

• Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love’s eye.

  John Keats

• Should ever the fine-eyed maid to me be kind; Ah! surely it must be whenever I find; Some flowery spot, sequestered, wild, romantic; That often must have seen a poet frantic.

  John Keats

• Ever let thy Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home.

  John Keats

• Stop and consider! life is but a day; A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way From a tree’s summit; a poor Indian’s sleep While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep of Montmorenci.

  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

• The Public is a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.

  John Keats

• It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.

  John Keats

• The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children.

  John Keats

• I compare human life to a large mansion of many apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me.

  John Keats

• Health is my expected heaven.

  John Keats

  Topics in Health

• I equally dislike the favor of the public with the love of a woman — they are both a cloying treacle to the wings of independence.

  John Keats

• Scenery is fine – but human nature is finer.

  John Keats

• There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.

  John Keats

• Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds along the pebbled shore of memory!

  John Keats

• We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.

  John Keats

• I wish I could say Tom was any better. His identity presses upon me so all day that I am obliged to go out.

  John Keats

• Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: we know her woof, her texture; she is given in the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, conquer all mysteries by rule and line, empty the haunted air, and gnome mine unweave a rainbow.

  John Keats

• A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence, because he has no identity – he is continually informing and filling some other body.

  John Keats

• Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu.

  John Keats

  Topics in Joy

• My passions are all asleep from my having slumbered till nearly eleven and weakened the animal fiber all over me to a delightful sensation about three degrees on this sight of faintness — if I had teeth of pearl and the breath of lilies I should call it languor — but as I am I must call it laziness. In this state of effeminacy the fibers of the brain are relaxed in common with the rest of the body, and to such a happy degree that pleasure has no show of enticement and pain no unbearable frown. Neither poetry, nor ambition, nor love have any alertness of countenance as they pass by me.

  John Keats

John Keats (162)

Birth:	31st October, 1795
Death:	23rd February, 1821
Nationality:	British
Profession:	Poet

About

John Keats was born in London, England. He was an English Romantic poet who devoted his short life to the perfection of a poetry marked by vivid imagery, great sensuous appeal, and an attempt to express a philosophy through classical legend. Having finished his apprenticeship with Hammond, he registered as a medical student at Guy's Hospital, now part of King's College London and began studying there in October 1815. He wrote several poems include: Endymion, Hyperion, Lamia, To Autumn, Isabella, the Eve of St. Agnes, and Ode to a Nightingale.

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