Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes - Page 2

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:

Man has no right to kill his brother. It is no excuse that he does so in uniform: he only adds the infamy of servitude to the crime of murder.

And as this creation itself is poetry, so its creators were poets; and language was the instrument of their art

Nothing in the world is single
All things by law divine
In one another's being mingle
Why not I with thine?

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.

The man
Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys:
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches, and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame,
A mechanised automaton.

Music, when soft voices die, vibrates in the memory.