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The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.

William Butler Yeats

Related Topics

Sex Soul Tragedy Virgin

Bagwalas

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In dreams begins responsibility.
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Hammer your thoughts into unity.
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Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
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We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
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People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
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A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote. A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your throat. So stay at home and drink your beer and let the neighbors vote.
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Everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.
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There is another world, but it is in this one.
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Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.
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And pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon the golden apples of the sun.
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Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
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Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process.
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Man is in love and loves what vanishes, What more is there to say?
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Disappear Love Man
We are closed in, and the key is turned / On our uncertainty.
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If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we’re branches of the same tree.
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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.
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