a man can't soar too high, when he flies with his own wings

The imagination is not a state: it is the human existence itself.

If the doors of perception were cleansed
every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite.
For man has closed himself up,
till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.

In the universe,
there are things that are known,
and things that are unknown,
and in between, there are doors.

For all eternity, I forgive you and you forgive me.

Everything to be imagined is an image of truth.

He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity’s sunrise.

Quotes by William Blake
Photographs from Dead Boy’s Poem