Zitate von William Blake
Ein bekanntes Zitat von William Blake:
Ich hasse gelegentlich seltenes Lächeln; ich liebe Gelächter.
Informationen über William Blake
Maler, Kupferstecher, Dichter, Mystiker (England, 1757 - 1827).
William Blake · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
William Blake wäre heute 266 Jahre, 11 Monate, 9 Tage oder 97.498 Tage alt.
Geboren am 28.11.1757
Gestorben am 12.08.1827
Sternzeichen: ♐ Schütze
Unbekannt
Weitere 167 Zitate von William Blake
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Everything that is possible to be believed is an image of the truth.
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Everything that lives, Lives not alone, nor for itself.
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Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.
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Exuberance is beauty.
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For a tear is an intellectual thing; And a sigh is the sword of an Angel King And the bitter groan of the martyr's woe Is an arrow from the Almighty's bow!
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For Mercy has a human heart Pity a human face: And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
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Fun I love, but too much fun is of all things the most loathsome. Mirth is better than fun, and happiness is better than mirth.
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God appears and God is Light To those poor souls who dwell in night But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day.
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Great things are done when men and mountains meet This is not done by jostling in the street.
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He has observed the golden rule Till he's become the golden fool.
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He who binds to himself a joy Doth the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in Eternity's sunrise.
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He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.
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He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men He who the ox to wrath has moved Shall never be by woman loved.
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He who would do good to another, must do it in minute particulars General good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite and flatterer: For Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized particulars.
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Hear the voice of the Bard! Who present, past, and future, sees.
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How do you know but every bird that cuts the airy way Is an immense world of delight, closed by your senses five?
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Humility is only doubt And does the sun and moon blot out Rooting over with thorns and stems The buried soul and all its gems This life's dim windows of the soul Distorts the heavens from pole to pole And leads you to believe a lie When you see with not through the eye.
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I am sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.
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I care not whether a man is good or evil; all that I care Is whether he is a wise man or a fool. Go! put off holiness And put on Intellect.
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I give you the end of a golden string; Only wind it into a ball: It will lead you in at Heaven's gate, Built in Jerusalem's wall.