Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
"Percy Bysshe Shelley" was one of the major English romantic poetry/Romantic poets, and is regarded by some critics as amongst the finest lyric poetry/lyric poets in the English language. A radical in his poetry as well as his political and social views, Shelley did not achieve fame during his lifetime, but recognition for his poetry grew steadily following his death. Shelley was a key member of a close circle of visionary poets and writers that included Lord Byron; Leigh Hunt; Thomas Love Peacock; and his own second wife, Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein.
Shelley is perhaps best known for such classic poems as Ozymandias, Ode to the West Wind, To a Skylark, Music, When Soft Voices Die, The Cloud (poem)/The Cloud and The Masque of Anarchy. His other major works include long, visionary poems such as Queen Mab (poem)/Queen Mab (later reworked as The Daemon of the World), Alastor, or The Spirit of Solitude/Alastor, The Revolt of Islam, Adonaïs, the unfinished work The Triumph of Life; and the visionary verse dramas The Cenci (1819) and Prometheus Unbound (Shelley)/Prometheus Unbound (1820).
If you enjoy these quotes, be sure to check out other famous poets! More Percy Bysshe Shelley on Wikipedia.There is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen, As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts, have their root in Greece.
The more we study, the more we discover our ignorance.
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?
When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.
Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.
Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving year.
A man, to be greatly good, must magine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and in many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.
To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; To defy power which seems omnipotent; To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates.
All Love is sweet. Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.
Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love replused - but it returneth.
Death is a veil which those who live call life, Sleep and it is lifted.
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of man.
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.
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