Percy Shelley

1792 - 1822

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on heaven, love, sleep, and world

Heaven's ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Source: Queen Mab. iv.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on power

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Power, like a desolating pestilence, pollutes whatever it touches.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on feeling

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One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Source: One Word is too often frofaned

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on mistakes, worth, and youth

All of us, who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on life

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Oh lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on power

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The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats, tho' unseen, amongst us.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Source: Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on boldness and earth

What! alive, and so bold, O earth?

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Source: Written on hearing the news of the death of Napoleon.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on hope and work

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Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, And hope without an object can not live.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on age, beginning, earth, and world

The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley on art, death, love, memory, and music

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)

Source: Music, when soft Voices die.

Contributed by: Zaady

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