William Blake Quotes, Criticism Quotes, Artistic Quotes

Imitation is criticism.

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A tyrant is the worst disease, and the cause of all others.

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Time is the mercy of Eternity; without Time's swiftness Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.

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Why cannot the ear be closed to its own destruction? Or the glistening eye to the poison of a smile?

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To create a little flower is the labour of ages.

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Gratitude, in itself, is heaven.

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Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock on, mock on: 'Tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem Reflected in the beams divine; Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine. The atoms of Democritus And Newton's particles of light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.

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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.

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As a man is, so he sees. As the eye is formed, such are its powers.

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He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.

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Poetry, Painting & Music, the three Powers in man of conversing with Paradise, which the flood did not sweep away.

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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.

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Drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead.

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The worship of God is, Honouring his gifts in other men each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best; those who envy or calumniate great men hate God, for there is no other God.

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Tags : William Blake Quotes , Hate Quotes , Men Quotes

The vision of Christ that thou dost see is my vision's greatest enemy . Both read the Bible day and night, but thou read'st black where I read white. His seventy disciples sent against religion and government .

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Harmony of colouring is destructive of art? it is like the smile of a fool.

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Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?

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God is the poetic genius in each of us.

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How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!

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I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

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Tags : William Blake Quotes , Sweet Quotes , Flower Quotes