Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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The cemetery is an open space among the ruins covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
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Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance, These are the seals of that most firm assurance Which bars the pit over Destruction’s strength; And if, with infirm hand, Eternity, Mother of many acts and hours, should free The serpent that would clasp her with his length; These are the spells by which to reassume An empire o’er the disentangled doom.
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Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
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Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.
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Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
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Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.
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From the haunts of daily life Where is waged the daily strife With common wants and common cares Which sows the human heart with tares.
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Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night.
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Once, early in the morning, Beelzebub arose, With care his sweet person adorning, He put on his Sunday clothes.
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Hell is a city much like London - A populous and smoky city.
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Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.
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The soul's joy lies in doing.
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His fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.
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I met Murder on the way - He had a mask like Castlereagh - Very smooth he looked, yet grim; Seven blood-hounds followed him.
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The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set; While, blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon, The cross leads generations on.
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Twilight, ascending slowly from the east, Entwined in duskier wreaths her braided locks O'er the fair front and radiant eyes of day, Night followed, clad with stars.
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What is Freedom? - ye can tell That which slavery is, too well - For its very name has grown To an echo of your own.
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That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon.
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A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light. And closed them beneath the kisses of Night.
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Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness.
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I love tranquil solitude, And such society As is quiet, wise, and good; Between thee and me What difference? but thou dost possess The things I seek, not love them less.
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Man has no right to kill his brother. It is no excuse that he does so in uniform: he only adds the infamy of servitude to the crime of murder.
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Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry: we'll have tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless host Of syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies, And other such ladylike luxuries.
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You would not easily guess All the modes of distress Which torture the tenants of earth; And the various evils, Which like so many devils, Attend the poor souls from their birth.