Quote

I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them After the red-rose-bordered hem.

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
Rose
Flower
Bordered
Coming
Hem
Went
Rhymes
Times
Rhyme
May
Cast
Heart
Casts
Red

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Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot but make it hot by striking.
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And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
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O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
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If a powerful and benevolent spirit has shaped the destiny of this world, we can better discover that destiny from the words that have gathered up the heart's desire of the world, than from historical records, or from speculation, wherein the heart withers.
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Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.
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The soul of man is of the imperishable substance of the stars!
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We can only begin to live when we conceive life as Tragedy.
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The poor have very few hours in which to enjoy themselves they must take their pleasure raw they haven't the time to cook it.
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He only can create the greatest imaginable beauty who has endured all imaginable pangs, for only when we have seen and foreseen what we dread shall we be rewarded by that dazzling unforeseen wing-footed wanderer.
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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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Players and painted stage took all my love, And not those things that they were emblems of.
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Nothing that we love overmuch Is ponderable to our touch.
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Sweetheart, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song.
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By logic and reason we die hourly by imagination we live.
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Farewell - farewell, For I am weary of the weight of time.
William Butler Yeats
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I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember
William Butler Yeats
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I call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words, Spoilt what old loins have sent?
William Butler Yeats
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer Things fall apart the centre cannot hold Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
William Butler Yeats
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The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
William Butler Yeats
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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.
William Butler Yeats