Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Many times man lives and dies Betweeen his two eternities, That of race and that of soul, And ancient Ireland knew it… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Being young you have not known The fool's triumph, nor yet Love lost as soon as won, Nor the best labourer dead… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“O cowardly amd tyrannous race of monks, persecutors of the bard, and the gleemen, haters of life and joy! O race that… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
yet it seems Life scarce can cast a fragrance on the wind, Scarce spread a glory to the morning beams, But the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The mystical life is the centre of all that I do and all that I think and all that I write. .… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
No art can conquer the people alone-the people are conquered by an ideal of life upheld by authority. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“I saw nothing and heard nothing; near dead I am with a fright I got and with the hardship of the goal.… — 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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
I see a schoolboy when I think of him, With face and nose pressed to a sweet-shop window. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
