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 YEATSPeople who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.
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Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
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Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.
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I believe that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
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It is love that I am seeking for, But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind That is not in the world.
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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.
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It seems to me that true love is a discipline.
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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.
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Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is, A child’s laughter, a woman’s kiss.
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Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
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When two close kindred meet, What better than call a dance?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS