A Quote by John Keats

Here lies one whose name was writ in water. — © John Keats
Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
This Grave contains all that was Mortal of a Young English Poet Who on his Death Bed in the Bitterness of his Heart at the Malicious Power of his Enemies Desired these words to be engraved on his Tomb Stone "Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water."
One of the cardinal sins in our country is profanity -- the taking of the name of the Lord in vain. Reverence for the name of Deity is enjoined in holy writ. Jesus made this clear when teaching His disciples to pray. He said, addressing the Father, "Hallowed be thy name: (see Matthew 6:9). Blaspheming the name of God separates man from his Creator."
By these things examine thyself. By whose rules am I acting; in whose name; in whose strength; in whose glory? What faith, humility, self-denial, and love of God and to man have there been in all my actions?
No further evidence is needed to show that 'mental illness' is not the name of a biological condition whose nature awaits to be elucidated, but is the name of a concept whose purpose is to obscure the obvious.
Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.
Take a pitcher full of water and set it down in the water-now it has water inside and water outside. We mustn't give it a name, lest silly people start talking again about the body and the soul.
And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
It is no secret. All power is one in source and end, I think. Years and distances, stars and candles, water and wind and wizardry, the craft in a man's hand and the wisdom in a tree's root: they all arise together. My name, and yours, and the true name of the sun, or a spring of water, or an unborn child, all are syllables of the great word that is very slowly spoken by the shining of the stars. There is no other power. No other name.
Atticus "What's this religion going to be called?" Oberon "Poochism" A:"and the name of this holy writ I will be typing for you?" O:"The dead flea scrolls: A Sirius Prophecy.
Of all that writ, he was the wisest bard, who spoke this mighty truth- He that knew all that ever learning writ, Knew only this-that he knew nothing yet.
The blackest ink of fate are sure my lot, And when fate writ my name it made a blot.
There were lots of lies along the way in life. Lies without arms, lies that were ill, lies that did harm, lies that could kill. Lies on foot, or behind the wheel, black-tie lies, and lies that could steal.
I know exaggerators of both kinds: people whose lies are only picturesque adjectives, and people whose picturesque adjectives are only lies.
A lie always needs a truth for a handle to it. The worst lies are those whose blade is false, but whose handle is true.
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?
Only the right name gives beings and things their reality. A wrong name makes everything unreal. That's what lies do.
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