Education is not about filling a pail, it's about lighting a fire. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
What's memory but the ash That chokes our fires that have begun to sink? — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Great Powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire, With your harmonious choir Encircle her I love and sing her into… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“When you are old and grey and full of sleep And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Where the world ends The mind is made unchanging, for it finds Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope, The flagstone under all, the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
To sit beside the board and drink good wine And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire And feel content and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye. What if my great-granddad had a pair that were twenty foot… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room As though dried straw, and if we… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow; And then I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The Mask "Put off that mask of burning gold With emerald eyes." "O no, my dear, you make so bold To find… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I would have touched it like a child But knew my finger could but have touched Cold stone and water. I grew wild, Even… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, Some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love's lonely hour… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
That toil of growing up; The ignominy of boyhood; the distress Of boyhood changing into man; The unfinished man and his pain. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
I see a schoolboy when I think of him, With face and nose pressed to a sweet-shop window. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above; those that I fight I do not hate, those that I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Great literature has always been written in a like spirit, and is, indeed, the Forgiveness of Sin, and when we find it becoming the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
His element is so fine Being sharpened by his death, To drink from the wine-breath While our gross palates drink from the whole wine. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
We poets would die of loneliness but for women, and we choose our men friends that we may have somebody to talk about women… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share
