God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Only the dead can be forgiven; But when I think of that my tongue's a stone. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I summon to the winding ancient stair; Set all your mind upon the steep ascent — 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
The mystical life is at the centre of all that I do and all that I think and all that I write. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
. . . you may think I waste my breath Pretending that there can be passion That has more life in it than death — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I think all happiness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other life, on a re-birth as something not… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
All think what other people think; All know the man their neighbor knows. Lord, what would they say Did their Catullus walk… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I always think a great speaker convinces us not by force of reasoning, but because he is visibly enjoying the beliefs he… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
You think it horrible that lust and rage Should dance attention upon my old age; They were not such a plague when… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Oh, Love is the crooked thing, there is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it, for he will… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Man's life is thought, And he, despite his terror, cannot cease Ravening through century after century, Ravening, raging, and uprooting that he… — 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
THOUGH you are in your shining days, Voices among the crowd And new friends busy with your praise, Be not unkind or… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
When I think of all the books I have read, and of the wise words I have heard spoken, and of the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A sea captain when he stands upon the bridge, or looks out from his deck-house, thinks much about God and about the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Now as to magic. It is surely absurd to hold me "weak" or otherwise because I choose to persist in a study… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I… — 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
