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When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea.

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
Play
Like
Fiddle
Folk
Wave
Folks
Sea
Dance

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The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.
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Evil comes to us men of imagination wearing as its mask all the virtues.
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O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman's gaze.
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Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by
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... What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?
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The only enemy of innocence and beauty is time.
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The hare grows old as she plays in the sun And gazes around her with eyes of brightness Before the swift things that she dreamed of were done She limps along in an aged whiteness.
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Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!
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Though logic-choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy.
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Is it not certain that the Creator yawns in earthquake and thunder and other popular displays, but toils in rounding the delicate spiral of a shell? -Yeats, The Trembling of the Veil
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What man does not understand, he fears and what he fears, he tends to destroy.
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I believe... that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
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Eyes spiritualised by death can judge, I cannot, but I am not content.
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How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.
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An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick
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It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.
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Many times man lives and dies between his two eternities: that of race and that of Soul... A brief parting from those dear is the worst man has to fear... Though grave diggers' toil is long... They but thrust their buried men back in the human mind again.
William Butler Yeats
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Fairies in Ireland are sometimes as big as we are, sometimes bigger, and sometimes, as I have been told, about three feet high.
William Butler Yeats
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Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?
William Butler Yeats
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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.
William Butler Yeats