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Where there is nothing, there is God.
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
Nothing
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
What the world's million lips are searching for, must be substantial somewhere.
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I thought it out this very day, Noon upon the clock, A man may put pretence away Who leans upon a stick, May sing, and sing until he drop, Whether to maid or hag.
William Butler Yeats
BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there.
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In dreams begins responsibility.
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I think all happiness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other life, on a re-birth as something not one's self.
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I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow And then I must scrub and bake and sweep Till the stars are beginning to blink and peep And the young lie long and dream in their bed.
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Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
William Butler Yeats
What can I but enumerate old themes?
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When a man grows old his joy Grows more deep day after day, His empty heart is full at length But he has need of all that strength Because of the increasing Night That opens her mystery and fright.
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We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.
William Butler Yeats
Come near I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.
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There where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping horses, The crowd that closes in behind.
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I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
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I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams.
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But Love has pitched his mansion in the place of excrement. For nothing can be sole or whole that has not been rent.
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I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.
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Pale brows, still hands and dim hair, I had a beautiful friend And dreamed that the old despair Would end in love in the end.
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Hearts with one purpose alone/Through summer and winter seem/Enchanted to a stone/To trouble the living stream.
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No man, even though he be Shakespeare, can write perfectly when his web is woven of threads that have been spun in many lands.
William Butler Yeats
Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by
William Butler Yeats