William Blake
William Blake
William Blakewas an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age. His prophetic works have been said to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language". His visual artistry led one contemporary art critic to proclaim him "far and away the greatest artist Britain has ever produced". In...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPhilosopher
Date of Birth28 November 1757
Swedenborg is the Angel sitting at the tomb: his writings are the linen clothes folded up.
The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid, of Plato & Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible
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.
First thought is best in Art, second in other matters.
Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow; in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.
When a man has married a wife, he finds out whether / Her knees and elbows are only glued together.
When I tell any truth it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those who do.
The selfish smiling fool, and the sullen frowning fool, shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod.
I sometimes try to be miserable that I may do more work, but find it is a foolish experiment.
I see the Fourfold Man; the Humanity in deadly sleep, / And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow. / I see the Past, Present, and Future existing all at once / Before me.
The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom... for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough.
Cruelty has a Human Heart, And jealousy a Human Face; Terror the Human Form Divine, And secrecy the Human Dress. The Human Dress is forged Iron, The Human Form a Fiery Forge, The Human Face a Furnace seal d, The Human Heart its hungry gorge.
Cruelty has a human heart, And jealousy a human face Terror, the human form divine, And secrecy, the human dress