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St. Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold.

— John Keats Poems (1820)

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More quotes by John Keats

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Poems (1820)

Here lies one whose name was writ in water.

Epitaph for himself (1821)

Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced — Even a proverb is no proverb to you till your Life has illustrated it.

Letters (1817)

Call the world if you please "The vale of soul-making."

Letters (1817)

The excellency of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate, from their being in close relationship with beauty and truth.

Letters (1817)

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: John Keats (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.