Keats - Tumblr Posts

4 months ago
John Keats, From La Belle Dame Sans Merci

John Keats, from La Belle Dame sans Merci


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4 months ago
 Handwritten Manuscript OfOde To A Nightingale By John Keats (x)

— Handwritten manuscript of ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ by John Keats (x) 


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3 months ago
Letter To Fanny Brawne, February 1820

Letter to Fanny Brawne, February 1820


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3 months ago
February 1820. John Keat's Letter To Fanny Brawne.

February 1820. John Keat's letter to Fanny Brawne.


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6 months ago

Ha! Keats sweep!

You cannot beat the omniscient kitty with a funky moustache.

Mae Borowski from Night in the Woods vs Keats from Professor Layton and the Last Specter. Vote for your fav!!

Mae Borowski From Night In The Woods Vs Keats From Professor Layton And The Last Specter. Vote For Your
Mae Borowski From Night In The Woods Vs Keats From Professor Layton And The Last Specter. Vote For Your

Need help picking? Check down here!

Mae Borowski - Infinite Fall - 2017 - Anthropomorphic black cat:

-Has a bat and has taken down a cult.

-Debatable whether or not they’re *actually* a cat or if they’re just *represented* by a cat. Even if she is actually a cat i’m not sure if anthropomorphic cats would be allowed in this ruleset. This isn’t propaganda really i just genuinely don’t know if she would be allowed in this

-#pls vote mae she is The cat of all time#shes a college dropout she stopped a cult she saw a disembodied arm and poked it with a stick she hates cops she does knife fights for fun

Keats - Level-5 + Brownie Brown - 2009 - Purple cat:

Uh. Purbple. Cat that collects puzzles and lives in an airship. He has a moustache. He’s a little guy.


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3 years ago

I stand upon my desk to remind yourself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.

You see, the world looks very different from up here.

- John Keating, Dead Poets Society (1989)


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3 years ago

A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain.

His hands reach out and choke me.

And, and all the time he's mumbling.

M-Mumbling, "Truth. Truth is like, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold."

You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.

From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.

- Todd Anderson, Dead Poets Society (1989)


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