to be choked with hate May well be of all evil chances chief. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Thought is a garment and the soul's a bride That cannot in that trash and tinsel hide: Hatred of God may bring… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
How can they know Truth flourishes where the student's lamp has shone, And there alone, that have no solitude? So the crowd… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come swish around, my pretty punk, And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my… — 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
While Michael Angelo's Sistine roof, His "Morning" and his "Night" disclose How sinew that has been pulled tight, Or it may be… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard A voice singing on a May Eve like this, And followed half awake and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
May we two stand, When we are dead, beyond the setting suns, A little from other shades apart, With mingling hair, and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Had there been no Renaissance and no Italian influence to bring in the stories of other lands English history would, it may… — 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
