Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSRose 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.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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I believe that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Though leaves are many, the root is one.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.
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 -
The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
And wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey.
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 -
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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS






