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 YEATSThink like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
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If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we’re branches of the same tree.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
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 -
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 -
It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is.
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 -
God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
only an aching heart Conceives a changeless work of art.
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Only that which does not teach, which does not cry out, which does not condescend, which does not explain, is irresistible.
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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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
There is another world, but it is in this one.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS