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There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

William Butler Yeats

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Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Hands Heart Myself Quiet
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Nature Rose Sweet Time World Yourself
Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Book exchange Life Logic Process Writing
If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we’re branches of the same tree.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Connection Myself Relatable Tree Yourself
The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Business Head Heart World
Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is, A child’s laughter, a woman’s kiss.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Children Kiss Laughter Life Woman
Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Communication Language People Thinking Wisdom
Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Earth Existence Feet Ourselves True
Though leaves are many, the root is one.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Connection Leaves Nature Oneself Root Spiritual Tree
We are closed in, and the key is turned / On our uncertainty.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Close Key Uncertain
God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Alone God Guard Mindset Myself Protection Thinking
I heard the old, old, men say ‘all that’s beautiful drifts away, like the waters.’
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Beautiful Myself Old Water
Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Eyes Love Myself Romance See Wine Yourself
From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Born Death Eyes Life Short Time Wink
The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Best Intense Passionate Worst
What can be explained is not poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Explanation One Liner Poetry

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