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.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSIt seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
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By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.
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The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.
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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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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.
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We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
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The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
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There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven’t yet met.
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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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There is another world, but it is in this one.
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Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
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But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
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It is love that I am seeking for, But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind That is not in the world.
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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