Quotes by William Blake

If a thing loves, it is infinite.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.

A man cant soar too high, when he flies with his own wings.

A truth thats told with bad intentBeats all the lies you can invent.

The glory of Christianity is to conquer by forgiveness.

When i tell the truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those that do.

Better to shun the bait than struggle in the snare.

What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.

He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.

I must create a system, or be enslaved by another mans. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.

Truth can never be told so as to be understood and not be believed.

To see a World in a grain of sand,And a Heaven in a wild flower,Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,And Eternity in an hour.

The lamb misused breeds public strifeAnd yet forgives the butchers knife.

I wander through each chartered street,Near where the chartered Thames does flow;A mark in every face I meet,Marks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every man,In every infant’s cry of fear,In every voice, in every ban,The mind-forged manacles I hear:How the chimney-sweeper’s cryEvery blackening church appals,And the hapless soldier’s sighRuns in blood down palace-walls.But most, through midnight streets I hearHow the youthful harlot’s curseBlasts the new-born infant’s tear,And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

A Robin Redbreast in a CagePuts all Heaven in a Rage.A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeonsShudders Hell thro’ all its regions.A Dog starv’d at his Master’s GatePredicts the ruin of the State.A Horse misus’d upon the RoadCalls to Heaven for Human blood.Each outcry of the hunted HareA fiber from the Brain does tear.

I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And Thou shalt not writ over the door; So I turnd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

But to go to school in a summer morn,O! It drives all joy away;Under a cruel eye outworn,The little ones spend the dayIn sighing and dismay.

How can the bird that is born for joySit in a cage and sing?How can a child, when fears annoy,But droop his tender wing,And forget his youthful spring?

I give you the end of a golden string,Only wind it into a ball,It will lead you in at Heavens gateBuilt in Jerusalems wall.

If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt, theyd immediately go out.