Quotes

Quotes - Shelley


How wonderful is Death!
Death and his brother Sleep.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame
A mechanized automaton.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Heaven's ebon vault
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world.

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 wish no living thing to suffer pain.

Shelley

Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Shelley

Nothing contributes so much to tranquilizing the mind as a steady purpose - a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

And many an ante-natal tomb When butterflies dream of the life to come.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. 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

Far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

No change, no pause, no hope! Yet I endure.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

. . . then black despair The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Around, around in ceaseless circles wheeling With clangs of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed Incessantly.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of eternity.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like Heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Familiar acts are beautiful through love.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Commerce has set the mark of selfishness, The signet of its all-enslaving power Upon a shining ore, and called it gold; Before whose image bow the vulgar great, The vainly rich, the miserable proud, The mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings, And with blind feelings reverence the power That grinds them to the dust of misery. But in the temple of their hireling hearts Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn All earthly things but virtue.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

You must come home with me and be my guest; You will give joy to me, and I will do All that is in my power to honour you.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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