John Keats (October 31, 1795 – February 23, 1821) was an English Romantic poet. He was one of the main figures of the second generation of Romantic poets, along with Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley, despite his work having been in publication for only four years before his death. His poetry is characterised by sensual imagery, most notably in the series of odes. Today his poems and letters are some of the most popular and most analyzed in English literature. (Click here for full Wikipedia article)
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' - that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I lay them at your feet. Tread lightly, for you tread on my dreams.
Carpe diem. Seize the day.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on.
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days- three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
I have a habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am now leading a posthumous existence.
I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
Life is divine Chaos. It's messy, and it's supposed to be that way.
Love is my religion- I could die for it.
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
O for a life of sensations rather than of thoughts!
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
Pleasure is oft a visitant, but pain clings cruelty to us.
Scenery is fine- but human nature is finer.
The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
The poetry of the earth is never dead.
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.
There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.
There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.
Touch has a memory. O say, love, say, What can I do to kill it and be free?
What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth.
You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.