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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSLiterature 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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSAll 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 YEATSI 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 YEATSI heard the old, old, men say ‘all that’s beautiful drifts away, like the waters.’
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSWine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSIt takes more courage to dig deep in the dark corners of your own soul and the back alleys of your society than it does for a soldier to fight on the battlefield.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSThough leaves are many, the root is one.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSEverything in nature is resurrection.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSI believe that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSLove 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 YEATSIt seems to me that true love is a discipline.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSThe 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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSWe make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSHearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSBut 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 YEATSAll dreams of the soul End in a beautiful man’s or woman’s body.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS