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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

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Hands Heart Myself Quiet

Bagwalas

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There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven’t yet met.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Friendship Perspective Stranger Yourself
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Art Fight Ourselves Poet Poetry
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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Battle Courage Darkness Fight Society Soldier Soul
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
In dreams begin responsibilitiy.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Beginning Dreams Responsibility
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
And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Bone Myself Nature Soft Space Stars
It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Believe Enough Feeling Oneself Time
Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Gift Hard Work Heart Privilege
The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Brief Joy Knowledge Time Tragedy
A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote. A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your throat. So stay at home and drink your beer and let the neighbors vote.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Easy Home Invention Journalist Lying Man Stay Vote
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 in deep twilight of rest.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Eyes Fall Hairs Heart Lonely Love Rest
It is one of the great troubles of life that we cannot have any unmixed emotions. There is always something in our enemy that we like, and something in our sweetheart that we dislike.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Emotion Enemy Greatness Ourselves Trouble
The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Alive Awake Blood Blow Myself Nature Space Stars Wind
Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Ecstasy Happiness Imperfection Live
Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Company Friendship Rest Yourself

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