708 Quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

But hope will make thee young, for Hope and Youth Are children of one mother, even Love.

The flood of time is rolling on; We stand upon its brink, whilst they are gone To glide in peace down death’s mysterious stream. Have ye done well?

Love, from its awful throne of patient power In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep, And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs And folds over the world its healing wings.

Love’s Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.

January gray is here, like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, march with grief doth howl and rave, and April weeps – but, O ye hours! Follow with May’s fairest flowers.

Our Adonais has drunk poisonoh! What deaf and viperous murderer could crown Life’s early cup with such a draught of woe?

Implacable hate, patient cunning, and a sleepless refinement of device to inflict the extremest anguish on an enemy, these things are evil; and, although venial in a slave are not to be forgiven in a tyrant; although.

Not the swart Pariah in some Indian grove, Lone, lean, and hunted by his brother’s hate, Hath drunk so deep the cup of bitter fate As that poor wretch who cannot, cannot love: He bears a load which nothing can remove, A killing, withering weight.

As long as skies are blue, and fields are green Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow, Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.