Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSLove is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.
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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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Talent perceives differences; genius, unity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
And wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
We are closed in, and the key is turned / On our uncertainty.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Any fool can fight a winning battle, but it needs character to fight a losing one, and that should inspire us; which reminds me that I dreamed the other night that I was being hanged, but was the life and soul of the party.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.
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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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Teaching is not filling up a pail, it is lighting a fire.
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The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
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Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS






