There is another world, but it is in this one.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSBeloved, 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.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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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.
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Everything in nature is resurrection.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.
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 -
Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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 -
Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
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 -
It seems to me that true love is a discipline.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
All empty souls tend toward extreme opinions.
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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 -
Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
An intellectual hate is the worst.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS






