A thing of beauty is a joy forever: it's loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness. Yes, indeed, simple words, and elegantly wrought by Keats into something quite transcedent. All uncomplicated words, mundane and everyday, but here bathed in moonlight.

I thought of this line whilst reading a quote of George Orwell's heading home on the Tube this evening. It is an altogether different sentiment, a warning in his case, and not the otherworldly charm of this line from Keats, but nevertheless, they are companion pieces, nearer together than might at first be apparent.

Orwell is talking about ungainly, sloppy writing "...the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts". The companionship is the clarity of the language. Two unadorned sentences free of fussy, pedantic, and overly complicated words. Perfect