There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSAnd wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.
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What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.
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Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
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The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.
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In dreams begin responsibilitiy.
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I have observed dreams and visions very carefully, and am now certain that the imagination has some way of lighting on the truth that the reason has not, and that its commandments, delivered when the body is still and the reason silent, are the most binding we can ever know.
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Literature is always personal, always one man’s vision of the world, one man’s experience, and it can only be popular when men are ready to welcome the visions of others.
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Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
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It is love that I am seeking for, But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind That is not in the world.
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People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
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Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.
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There is another world, but it is in this one.
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What can be explained is not poetry.
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I broke my heart in two So hard I struck. What matter? for I know That out of rock, Out of a desolate source, Love leaps upon its course.
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Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
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The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
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Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.
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All men live in suffering I know as few can know, Whether they take the upper road Or stay content on the low.
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It takes more courage to dig deep in the dark corners of your own soul and the back alleys of your society than it does for a soldier to fight on the battlefield.
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Everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.
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Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
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Everything in nature is resurrection.
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Talent perceives differences; genius, unity.
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One should say before sleeping: I have lived many lives. I have been a slave and a prince. Many a beloved has sat upon my knee and I have sat upon the knees of many a beloved. Everything that has been shall be again.
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If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we’re branches of the same tree.
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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