Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSOnly that which does not teach, which does not cry out, which does not condescend, which does not explain, is irresistible.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
-
-
Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
All that I have said and done, Now that I am old and ill, Turns into a question till I lie awake night after night And never get the answers right.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Everything in nature is resurrection.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
I broke my heart in two So hard I struck. What matter? for I know That out of rock, Out of a desolate source, Love leaps upon its course.
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 -
An intellectual hate is the worst.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
I heard the old, old, men say ‘all that’s beautiful drifts away, like the waters.’
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS