Hammer your thoughts into unity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSThink like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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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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 -
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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People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.
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It seems to me that true love is a discipline.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
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 -
Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The mystical life is the centre of all that I do and all that I think and all that I write. I have always considered myself a voice of what I believe to be a greater renaissance – the revolt of the soul against the intellect.
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Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
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Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun Now I may wither into the truth.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS -
One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS