We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSSometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
-
-
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 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 -
Talent perceives differences; genius, unity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Teaching is not filling up a pail, it is lighting a fire.
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 -
There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven’t yet met.
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 -
What can be explained is not poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
only an aching heart Conceives a changeless work of art.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
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 -
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 -
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






