Frases de Percy Bysshe Shelley

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“Deu ao homem a linguagem, e a linguagem criou o pensamento,
Que é a medida do Universo.”

“Chorais, ó infelizes, mas essas não serão vossas últimas lágrimas! Mais uma vez entregar-vos-ei ao pranto fúnebre, e o som de vossas lamentações será ouvido mais e mais.”

“Por tudo o que é sagrado em nossas esperanças pela humanidade, conclamo aqueles que desejam o bem-estar da humanidade e amam a verdade a examinarem, sem preconceito, os ensinamentos do vegetarianismo.”

“Quanto mais estudamos mais descobrimos a nossa ignorância.”

“O que eu mais quero é ser feliz… Melhor seria com você do meu lado. Mas se isso não for possível que Deus não me deixe sofrer de amor.”

“As almas se encontram nos lábios dos enamorados.”

“Ao contrário do ouro e do barro, o verdadeiro amor, dividido, não diminui.”

“Todo amor é doce, dado ou recebido.”

“Ai de mim! A vida se prende obstinadamente àquilo que mais odeia.”

“O cálice da vida estava envenenado para sempre e, o coração feliz e alegre, nada via em torno de mim senão uma treva densa e terrível, que nenhuma luz penetrava…”

“Quem não ama o seu semelhante vive uma vida estéril e prepara um túmulo triste para a sua velhice.”

“Procurar não significa nada. O importante é encontrar.”

“O inferno é uma cidade muito parecida com Londres
Uma cidade com muita gente e muito fumo.”

“O dinheiro é um Deus vivo.”

“Primeiro, morrem nossos prazeres; depois, nossas esperanças; depois nossos temores. E, então, nossa dívida vence: O pó reivindica o pó, e morremos por nossa vez.”

“É somente pelo amaciamento e disfarce da carne morta através do preparo culinário, que ela é tornada susceptível de mastigação ou digestão e que a visão de seus sucos sangrentos e horror puro não criam um desgosto e abominação intoleráveis.”

“Deus é uma hipótese, e, como tal, depende de prova: o ônus da prova cabe ao teísta.”

“Certo prazer existente na tristeza é mais doce do que o prazer do prazer.”

“Você me odeia, mas seu ódio não pode igualar-se ao que eu próprio dedico a mim.”

“Contemplei o coitado… o desgraçado monstro que eu havia criado.”

“O ontem do homem talvez jamais seja como o seu amanhã: nada perdura, a não ser a instabilidade.”

“Os poetas são os legisladores do mundo, não reconhecidos.”

“A poesia é um espelho que torna bonito aquilo que é distorcido.”

“Ser omnipotente mas sem amigos é reinar.”

“Se o inverno chegou, a primavera não estará distante.”

“And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.”

“Forget the dead, the past? O yet there are ghosts that may take revenge for it, memories that make the heart a tomb, regrets which gild thro’ the spirit’s gloom, and with ghastly whispers tell that joy, once lost, is pain.”

“He wanders, like a day-appearing dream,
Through the dim wildernesses of the mind; Through desert woods and tracts, which seem Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.”

“For love and beauty and delight, there is no death nor change.”

“I have neither curiosity, interest, pain nor pleasure, in anything, good or evil, they can say of me. I feel only a slight disgust, and a sort of wonder that they presume to write my name.”

“Familiar acts are beautiful through love.”

“Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may last!”

“As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.”

“When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.”

“I Fall upon the thorns of life….”

“The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning.”

“Thus suicidal selfishness, that blights
The fairest feelings of the opening heart,
Is destined to decay, whilst from the soil
Shall spring all virtue, all delight, all love,
And judgment cease to wage unnatural war
With passion's unsubduable array.”

“His fine wit
Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.”

“True Love in this differs from gold and clay,
That to divide is not to take away.
Love is like understanding, that grows bright,
Gazing on many truths; 'tis like thy light,
Imagination! which from earth and sky,
And from the depths of human phantasy,
As from a thousand prisms and mirrors, fills
The Universe with glorious beams, and kills
Error, the worm, with many a sun-like arrow
Of its reverberated lightning.”

“Sun-girt City, thou hast been
Ocean's child, and then his queen;
Now is come a darker day,
And thou soon must be his prey.”

“Titles are tinsel, power a corruptor, glory a bubble, and excessive wealth, a libel on its possessor.”

“Be your strong and simple words
Keen to wound as sharpened swords,
And wide as targes let them be,
With their shade to cover ye.”

“The old laws of England — they
Whose reverend heads with age are gray,
Children of a wiser day;
And whose solemn voice must be
Thine own echo — Liberty!”

“Men of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low?”

“No man has a right to disturb the public peace, by personally resisting the execution of a law however bad. He ought to acquiesce, using at the same time the utmost powers of his reason, to promote its repeal.”

“Are ye, two vultures sick for battle,
Two scorpions under one wet stone,
Two bloodless wolves whose dry throats rattle,
Two crows perched on the murrained cattle,
Two vipers tangled into one.”

“The lone couch of his everlasting sleep.”

“Love is free: to promise for ever to love the same woman, is not less absurd than to promise to believe the same creed: such a vow in both cases, excludes us from all enquiry.”

“How wonderful is Death,
Death and his brother Sleep!”

“A lovely lady, garmented in light
From her own beauty.”

“Me — who am as a nerve o'er which do creep
The else unfelt oppressions of this earth,
And was to thee the flame upon thy hearth,
When all beside was cold: — that thou on me
Shouldst rain these plagues of blistering agony!”

“The quick Dreams,
The passion-winged Ministers of thought.”

“The natural philosopher, in addition to the sensations common to all men inspired by the event of death, believes that he sees with more certainty that it is attended with the annihilation of sentiment and thought. He observes the mental powers increase and fade with those of the body, and even accommodate themselves to the most transitory changes of our physical nature. Sleep suspends many of the faculties of the vital and intellectual principle; drunkenness and disease will either temporarily or permanently derange them. Madness or idiotcy may utterly extinguish the most excellent and delicate of those powers. In old age the mind gradually withers; and as it grew and was strengthened with the body, so does it together with the body sink into decrepitude. Assuredly these are convincing evidences that so soon as the organs of the body are subjected to the laws of inanimate matter, sensation, and perception, and apprehension are at an end.”

“A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift —
A Love in desolation masked; — a Power
Girt round with weakness; — it can scarce uplift
The weight of the superincumbent hour;
It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
A breaking billow; — even whilst we speak
Is it not broken? On the withering flower
The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek
The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.”