English En
  • Deutsche De
  • English En
  • Français Fr
  • Русский Ru

We use cookies to personalise content and ads, to provide social media features and to analyse our traffic. We also share information about your use of our site with our marketing and analytics partners who may combine it with other information you've provided to them or which they've separately collected from you. You also may to see our Privacy Policy. By clicking the OK button below, you accept our cookies.

Authors:

John Clare quotes

English Poet July 13, 1793 – May 20, 1864

John Clare quotes in german
 Cite this Page: Citation

Quotes

I am, yet what I am none cares or knowsMy friends forsake me like a memory lostI am the self-consumer of my woesThey rise and vanish in oblivious hostLike shadows in love's frenzied, stifled throesAnd yet I am, and live, like vapours tossedInto the nothingness of scorn and noiseInto the living sea of waking dreamsWhere there is neither sense of life or joysBut the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;Even the dearest, that I loved the bestAre strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest John Clare
I hid my love when young till ICouldn't bear the buzzing of a fly; I hid my life 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'er I saw a wild flower lie. I kissed and bade my love good-bye. John Clare
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; And e'en the dearest--that I love the best--Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest. 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
John Clare quote: "He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time..."
He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well. John Clare
In crime and enmity they lie Who sin and tell us love can die, Who say to us in slander's breath That love belongs to sin and death. John Clare
John Clare quote: "Language has not the power tospeak what love indites: The soul..."
Language has not the power tospeak what love indites: The soul lies buriedin the ink that writes. John Clare
John Clare quote: "If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs."
If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs. John Clare
Solitude. There is a charm in Solitude that cheers. A feeling that the world knows nothing of. A green delight the wounded mind endears. After the hustling world is broken off. Whose whole delight was crime at good to scoff. Green solitude his prison pleasure yields. The bitch fox heeds him not -- birds seem to laugh. He lives the Crusoe of his lonely fields. Which dark green oaks his noontide leisure shields 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 long for scenes where man has never trod; A place where woman never smil'd or wept; There to abide with my creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept: Untroubling and untroubled where I lie; The grass below--above the vaulted sky. John Clare
Still, I have been no one's enemy but my own. My easy nature, either in drinking or anything else, was always ready to submit to persuasions of profligate companions, who often led me into snares. John Clare
Yet simple souls, their faith it knows no stint: Things least to be believed are most preferred. All counterfeits, as from truth's sacred mint, Are readily believed if once put down in print John Clare
John Clare quote: "Ah, words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away..."
Ah, words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away... John Clare
John Clare quote: "And all the charms of face or voice Which I in others see, Are..."
And all the charms of face or voice Which I in others see, Are but the recollected choice Of what I feel for thee. John Clare

Popular Author

Related Authors