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Somewhere beyond the curtain Of distorting days Lives that lonely thing That shone before these eyes Targeted, trod like Spring.
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
Life
Somewhere
Distorting
Like
Spring
Trod
Beyond
Shone
Days
Targeted
Eyes
Curtain
Eye
Curtains
Lives
Loneliness
Thing
Lonely
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
And the merry love the fiddle, and the merry love to dance.
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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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Now must we sing and sing the best we can, But first you must be told your character: Convicted cowards all, by kindred slain.
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The Land of Faery, Where nobody gets old and godly and grave, Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue.
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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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Players and painted stage took all my love, And not those things that they were emblems of.
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The intellect of man is forced to choose Perfection of the life, or of the work And if it take the second must refuse A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
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It's certain there are trout somewhere - And maybe I shall take a trout - but I do not seem to care.
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How could passion run so deep Had I never thought That the crime of being born Blackens all our lot?
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Farewell - farewell, For I am weary of the weight of time.
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I know, although when looks meet I tremble to the bone, The more I leave the door unlatched The sooner love is gone.
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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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I knew that I had seen, had seen at last That girl my unremembering nights hold fast Or else my dreams that fly If I should rub an eye, And yet in flying fling into my meat A crazy juice that makes the pulses beat.
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It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat.
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A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him up for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown.
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While they danced they came over them the weariness with the world, the melancholy, the pity one for the other, which is the exultation of love.
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Give to these children, new from the world, Rest far from men. Is anything better, anything better? Tell us it then.
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O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head You'd know the folly of being comforted.
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The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.
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When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea.
William Butler Yeats