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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
From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged / In rambling talk with an image of air: / Vague memories, nothing but memories.
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... What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?
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Though pedantry denies, It's plain the Bible means That Solomon grew wise While talking with his queens.
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Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on.
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I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.
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I have known more men destroyed by the desire to have wife and child and to keep them in comfort than I have seen destroyed by drink and harlots.
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A line will take us hours maybe / Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, / Our stitching and unstitching has been naught... Better go down upon your marrow-bones / And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones... For to articulate sweet sounds together / Is to work harder than all these, and yet / Be thought an idler by the noisy set.
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What can I but enumerate old themes?
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A line will take us hours maybe Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
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All that we did, all that we said or sang must come from contact with the soil.
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Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room As though dried straw, and if we turn about The bare chimney is gone black out Because the work had finished in that flare.
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Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away.
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Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is A child's laughter, a woman's kiss.
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Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
William Butler Yeats
And learn that the best thing is To change my loves while dancing And pay but a kiss for a kiss.
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Englishmen are babes in philosophy and so prefer faction-fighting to the labour of its unfamiliar thought.
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Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.
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Though I have many words, What woman's satisfied, I am no longer faint Because at her side? O who could have foretold That the heart grows old?
William Butler Yeats
Our words must seem to be inevitable.
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Hurrah for revolution and cannon come again! The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on.
William Butler Yeats