Festival Poster Quotes

If music be the food of love, play on. —  William Shakespeare

Sweet was the sound when oft at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. —  Oliver Goldsmith

Be curious, not judgemental. —  Walt Whitman

There is no end to grief, that's how we know there's no end to love. —  Bono

Oh, to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon, to paint that love upon a white balloon. —  David Bowie

Though a good deal is too strange to be believed, nothing is too strange to have happened. —  Thomas Hardy

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright, in the forest of the night; What immortal hand or eye, could frame thy fearful symmetry? —  William Blake

Love to faults is always blind, Always is to joy inclin'd, Lawless, wing'd, and unconfirm'd, And breaks all chains from every mind. —  William Blake

For everything that lives in holy, life delights in life, Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd. —  William Blake

How sweet, to such a place, on such a night, From halls with beauty and festival a-glare, To come distract and, stretched on the cool turf, Yield to some fond, improbably delight. —  Alan Seeger

In the height of summer, at the time of solstice, moon mad, sun begotten — we acclaim the glory of life with ungrudging sense. —  Llewelyn Powys

It is an easy thing to see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blast ... Thus could I sing and thus rejoice, but it is not so with me. I will arise explore these dens and find that deep pulsation. Perhaps this is the night of prophecy ... When thought is closed in caves, Then love shall show its root even in the deepest hell. —  William Blake

On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet to chase the glowing hours with flying feed. —  Byron

And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive, Comfort in morning joy in the noon day. And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love. —  William Blake

In the height of summer, at the time of solstice — moon-mad, sun-begotten — we acclaim the glory of life with ungrudging senses. —  Llewelyn Powys

Those who have once been happy are for aye Our of Destruction's reach. —  John Masefield

For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life, Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd. —  William Blake