Dictionary De - En
De - Es
De - Pt| Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English) | by Linux fortune |
| If a fool persists in his folly he shall become wise. -- William Blake | |
| "As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius; which to Angels look like torment and insanity. I collected some of their Proverbs..." - Blake, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" | |
| A musician, an artist, an architect: the man or woman who is not one of these is not a Christian. -- William Blake | |
| No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings. -- William Blake | |
| To generalize is to be an idiot. -- William Blake | |
| "Somewhere", said Father Vittorini, "did Blake not speak of the Machineries of Joy? That is, did not God promote environments, then intimidate these Natures by provoking the existence of flesh, toy men and women, such as are we all? And thus happily sent forth, at our best, with good grace and fine wit, on calm noons, in fair climes, are we not God's Machineries of Joy?" "If Blake said that", said Father Brian, "he never lived in Dublin." -- R. Bradbury, "The Machineries of Joy" | |
| What is now proved was once only imagin'd. -- William Blake | |
| A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all Heaven in a rage. -- Blake | |
| A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the lies you can invent. -- William Blake | |
| And did those feet, in ancient times, Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the Holy Lamb of God In England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon these crowded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my arrows of desire! Bring me my spears! O clouds unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire! I shall not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword rest in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land. -- William Blake, "Jerusalem" | |
| I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Man's; I will not Reason and Compare; my business is to Create. -- William Blake, "Jerusalem" | |
| Little Fly, Thy summer's play If thought is life My thoughtless hand And strength & breath, Has brush'd away. And the want Of thought is death, Am not I A fly like thee? Then am I Or art not thou A happy fly A man like me? If I live Or if I die. For I dance And drink & sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. -- William Blake, "The Fly" | |
| Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!" So I piped with merry cheer. "Piper, pipe that song again;" So I piped: he wept to hear. -- William Blake, "Songs of Innocence" | |
| Tyger, Tyger, burning bright Where the hammer? Where the chain? In the forests of the night, In what furnace was thy brain? What immortal hand or eye What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? Dare its deadly terrors clasp? Burnt in distant deeps or skies When the stars threw down their spears The cruel fire of thine eyes? And water'd heaven with their tears On what wings dare he aspire? Dare he laugh his work to see? What the hand dare seize the fire? Dare he who made the lamb make thee? And what shoulder & what art Tyger, Tyger, burning bright Could twist the sinews of they heart? In the forests of the night, And when thy heart began to beat What immortal hand or eye What dread hand & what dread feet Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? Could fetch it from the furnace deep And in thy horrid ribs dare steep In the well of sanguine woe? In what clay & in what mould Were thy eyes of fury roll'd? -- William Blake, "The Tyger" | |
| You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough. -- William Blake | |
| I'm receiving a coded message from EUBIE BLAKE!! | |
