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For to articulate sweet sounds together Is to work harder than all these, and yet Be thought an idler by the noisy set Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen The martyrs call the world.
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
Sweet
Martyrs
Call
Pavement
Sound
Articulate
Thought
Noisy
Together
Martyr
Schoolmasters
Work
Bankers
Idler
World
Sounds
Idlers
Harder
Clergymen
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
If what I say resonates with you, it's merely because we're branches of the same tree.
William Butler Yeats
Only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.
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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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Odor of blood when Christ was slain Made all Platonic tolerance vain And vain all Doric discipline.
William Butler Yeats
There is no deformity But saves us from a dream.
William Butler Yeats
My father was an angry and impatient teacher and flung the reading book at my head.
William Butler Yeats
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
Women are hard and proud and stubborn-hearted, Their heads being turned with praise and flattery And that is why their lovers are afraid To tell them a plain story.
William Butler Yeats
But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked tune that Chronos sings, Words alone are certain good.
William Butler Yeats
I have found nothing half so good / As my long-planned half solitude, / Where I can sit up half the night / With some friend that has the wit.
William Butler Yeats
Let the new faces play what tricks they will In the old rooms night can outbalance day, Our shadows rove the garden gravel still, The living seem more shadowy than they.
William Butler Yeats
Players and painted stage took all my love, And not those things that they were emblems of.
William Butler Yeats
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love's lonely hour in deep twilight of rest.
William Butler Yeats
O but we dreamed to mend Whatever mischief seemed To afflict mankind, but now That winds of winter blow Learn that we were crack-pated when we dreamed.
William Butler Yeats
O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head You'd know the folly of being comforted.
William Butler Yeats
My father upon the Abbey stage, before him a raging crowd. This Land of Saints, and then as the applause died out, Of plaster Saints his beautiful mischievous head thrown back.
William Butler Yeats
... What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?
William Butler Yeats
Education is not filling
William Butler Yeats
Maybe the bride-bed brings despair, For each an imagined image brings And finds a real image there...
William Butler Yeats
You think it horrible that lust and rage Should dance attention upon my old age They were not such a plague when I was young What else have I to spur me into song?
William Butler Yeats
