The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATSWine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
More William Butler Yeats Quotes
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We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.
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From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.
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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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The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.
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Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
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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.
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And wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey.
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It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is.
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Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.
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Everything in nature is resurrection.
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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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Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
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The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.
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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.
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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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The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
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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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And pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon the golden apples of the sun.
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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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Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
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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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One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
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Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love’s lonely hour in deep twilight of rest.
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All dreams of the soul End in a beautiful man’s or woman’s body.
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If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS