Quotes from William Butler Yeats

Think where man's glory most begins and ends, And say my glory was I had such friends.

Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O. When may it suffice?

We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason outselves into it.

You shall go with me, newly-married bride,And gaze upon a merrier multitude.White-armed Nuala, Aengus of the Birds,Feachra of the hurtling form, and himWho is the ruler of the Western Host,Finvara, and their Land of Heart's Desire.Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.

Any fool can fight a winning battle, but it needs character to fight a losing one, and that should inspire us; which reminds me that I dreamed the other night that I was being hanged, but was the life and soul of the party.

To long a sacrifice can make a stone of a heart

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned By those who are not entirely beautiful.

We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.

Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while.

Think where man's glory most begins and ends And say my glory was I had such friends.

We can only begin to live when we conceive life as Tragedy.

If I make the lashes dark And the eyes more bright And the lips more scarlet, Or ask if all be right From mirror after mirror, No vanity's displayed: I'm looking for the face I had Before the world was made.

It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on a battlefield

We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun. - The Song of Wandering Aengus

People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.

Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.

My wretched dragon is perplexed.

Love comes in at the eye.

Out of Ireland have we come. Great hatred, little room, Maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb A fanatic heart.

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?