We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Fair and foul are near of kin And fair needs foul," I cried. "My friends are gone, but that's a truth Nor… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
William Butler Yeats Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun; Now I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
My temptation is quiet. Here at life's end Neither loose imagination Nor the mill of the mind Consuming its rag and bone,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I long for truth, and yet I cannot stay from that My better self disowns, For a man's attention Brings such satisfaction… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I have mummy truths to tell Whereat the living mock, Though not for sober ear, For maybe all that hear Should laugh… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Florence Farr once said to me, If we could say to ourselves, with sincerity, 'this passing moment is as good as any… — 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… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
We must not make a false faith by hiding from our thoughts the causes of doubt, for faith is the highest achievement… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
When all is said and done, how do we know but that our own unreason may be better than another's truth? for… — 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
“Literature is, to my mind, the great teaching power of the world, the ultimate creator of all values, and it is this,… — 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
Nor seek, for this is also sooth, To hunger fiercely after truth, Lest all thy toiling only breeds New dreams, new dreams;… — 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
