The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSIt seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Mysticism has been in the past and probably ever will be one of the great powers of the world and it is bad scholarship to pretend the contrary.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
And pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon the golden apples of the sun.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Love 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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
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The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
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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 -
In dreams begins responsibility.
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I’m looking for the face I had, before the world was made.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS






