Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes About Lying
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Underneath Day's azure eyes, Ocean's nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destined halls
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The soul's joy lies in doing.
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I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear.
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When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead - When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed.
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Lie bills and calculations much perplexed, With steam-boats, frigates, and machinery quaint Traced over them in blue and yellow paint.
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For this is the most civil sort of lie That can be given to a man's face. I now Say what I think.
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The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. . . .
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Near that a dusty paint-box, some odd hooks, A half-burnt match, an ivory block, three books, Where conic sections, spherics, logarithms, To great Laplace, from Saunderson and Sims, Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray Of figures,-disentangle them who may.
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