Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
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
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
Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
No man, even though he be Shakespeare, can write perfectly when his web is woven of threads that have been spun in… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
When Walt Whitman writes in seeming defiance of tradition, he needs tradition for his protection, for the butcher and the baker and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The creations of a great writer are little more than the moods and passions of his own heart, given surnames and Christian… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
For those that love the world serve it in action, Grow rich, popular, and full of influence; And should they paint or… — 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
Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say. Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into… — 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
Mysticism has been in the past and probably ever will be one of the great powers of the world, and it is… — 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
