If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru chinks of his cavern.
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white; White as an angel is the English child, But I am black as if bereaved of light.
Every tear from every eyeBecomes a babe in eternity.
The Whole Business of Man is The Arts, & All Things Common.
Ages are All Equal. / But Genius is Always Above The Age.
Demonstration, similitude & harmony are objects of reasoning. Invention, identity & melody are objects of intuition.
For where'er the sun does shine, And where'er the rain does fall, Babe can never hunger there, Nor poverty the mind appall.
When Sir Joshua Reynolds died All Nature was degraded; The King dropped a tear in the Queen's ear, And all his pictures faded.
O white-robed Angel, guide my timorous hand to write as on a lofty rock with iron pen the words of truth, that all who pass may read.
Everything is beautiful in its own way. Exuberance is beauty.
Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor. Mercy no more could be, If all were happy as we.
Nature has no outline. Imagination has.
But when he has done this, let him not say that he knows better than his master, for he only holds a candle in sunshine.
If Christianity was morality, Socrates would be the Saviour.
To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.
Energy is eternal delight.
Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.
The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
That the Jews assumed a right exclusively to the benefits of God will be a lasting witness against them and the same will it be against Christians.
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
The lamb misused breeds public strife And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
Man was made for joy and woe, and when this we rightly know through the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, a clothing for the soul to bind.
None but blockheads copy each other.
Come live, and be merry, and join with me, To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!
Colouring does not depend on where the colours are put, but on where the lights and darks are put, and all depends on form and outline, on where that is put.
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