Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.

Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.

The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.

Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.

Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.

Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

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