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And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.

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.
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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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Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.
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An intellectual hate is the worst.
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I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them After the red-rose-bordered hem.
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And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
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And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.
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