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Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.
William Butler Yeats
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William Butler Yeats
Age: 73 †
Born: 1865
Born: June 13
Died: 1939
Died: January 28
Astrologer
Mystic
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Writer
Scrooby
Nottinghamshire
W. B. Yeats
William Yeats
W.B. Yeats
Earth
Tales
Littles
Forth
Little
Dust
Everything
Exists
Heart
Feet
Long
Whatever
Tellers
Fear
Seize
True
Prey
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
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What portion in the world can the artist have, Who has awakened from the common dream, But dissipation and despair?
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The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam, Our arms are waving, our lips are apart.
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And many a poor man that has roved Loved and thought himself beloved From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
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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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to be choked with hate May well be of all evil chances chief.
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One had a lovely face, And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain. Because the mountain grass Cannot keep the form Where the mountain hare has lain.
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Things said or done long years ago Or things I did not do or say But thought that I might say or do, Weigh me down, and not a day But something is recalled, My conscience or my vanity appalled.
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Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day. Love's pleasure drives his love away, The painter's brush consumes his dreams.
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O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What's not for their applause, Being for a woman's sake.
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The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day For half his flock were in their beds, Or under green sods lay.
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We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body.
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Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day.
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Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
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The only enemy of innocence and beauty is time.
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I say that Roger Casement Did what he had to do, He died upon the gallows But that is nothing new.
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The unpurged images of day recede The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong.
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God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.
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I knew a phoenix in my youth, so let them have their day.
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Test every work of intellect or faith and everything that your own hands have wrought.
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