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The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
William Blake -
Since all the riches of this world May be gifts from the Devil and earthly kings, I should suspect that I worshipp'd the Devil If I thank'd my God for worldly things.
William Blake
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Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
William Blake -
I must create a system, or be enslav'd by another man's.
William Blake -
Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!
William Blake -
Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks: He withers all in silence, and his hand Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
William Blake -
I love hanging and drawing and quartering Every bit as well as war and slaughtering.
William Blake -
Invention depends altogether upon execution or organization; as that is right or wrong so is the invention perfect or imperfect.
William Blake
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Gratitude is heaven itself.
William Blake -
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
William Blake -
Without Unceasing Practice nothing can be done. Practice is Art. If you leave off you are lost.
William Blake -
Every mortal loss is an immortal gain.
William Blake -
Mere enthusiasm is the all in all.
William Blake -
Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.
William Blake
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Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
William Blake -
The ruins of time build mansions in eternity.
William Blake -
Gratitude is heaven itself; there could be no heaven without gratitude.
William Blake -
Where there is money there is no art.
William Blake -
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
William Blake -
More! More! is the cry of a mistaken soul.
William Blake
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The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after the death of the vegetated [i.e. mortal] body. This world of imagination is infinite and eternal, whereas the world of generation is finite and temporal. There exist in that eternal world the eternal realities of everything which we see reflected in this vegetable glass of nature.
William Blake -
The eye altering, alters all.
William Blake