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John Clare quotes
And what is Life? - An hour-glass on the run.
John Clare
When trouble haunts me, need I sigh? No, rather smile away despair.
John Clare
This world has suns, but they are overcast; This world has sweets, but they're of ling'ring bloom; Life still expects, and empty falls at last; Warm Hope on tiptoe drops into the tomb.
John Clare
Throw not my words away, as many do; They're gold in value, though they're cheap to you.
John Clare
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows, My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes, They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost: And yet I am, and live with shadows tost.
John Clare
I hid my love when young till I Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly; I hid my love to my despite Till I could not bear to look at light: I dare not gaze upon her face But left her memory in each place; Where eer I saw a wild flower lie I kissed and bade my love good bye.
John Clare
I found the poems in the fields, And only wrote them down.
John Clare
O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away.
John Clare
And what's more wonderful, when big loads foil One ant or two to carry, quickly then A swarm flock round to help their fellow-men.
John Clare
O how I feel, just as I pluck the flower And stick it to my breast - words can't reveal; But there are souls that in this lovely hour Know all I mean, and feel whate'er I feel.
John Clare
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
John Clare
If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs.
John Clare
The best way to avoid a bad action is by doing a good one, for there is no difficulty in the world like that of trying to do nothing.
John Clare
I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.
John Clare
He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well.
John Clare
I'm John Clare now. I was Byron and Shakespeare formerly.
John Clare
Fashion is her (Popularity) favourite disciple.
John Clare
The ivyed oaks dark shadow falls Oft picking up with wondering gaze Some little thing of other days Saved from the wreck of time.
John Clare
Arts may ply fantastic anatomy but nature is always herself in her wildest moods of extravagence.
John Clare
Superstition lives longer than books, it is engraved on the human mind 'til it becomes a part of its existence.
John Clare
And what is Life?
John Clare
The riddle nature could not prove Was nothing else but secret love.
John Clare
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