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Like a long-legged fly upon the stream / His mind moves upon silence.
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
Moving
Long
Mind
Legged
Like
Stream
Streams
Moves
Silence
Upon
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
There are no strangers here Only friends you haven't yet met.
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Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.
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Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.
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I think all happiness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other life, on a re-birth as something not one's self.
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From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.
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For men were born to pray and save: Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
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The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.
William Butler Yeats
I spit into the face of time that has transfigured me
William Butler Yeats
It seems to me that true love is a discipline.
William Butler Yeats
Only the dead can be forgiven But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.
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Who mocks at music mocks at love.
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A speckled cat and a tame hare Eat at my hearthstone And sleep there And both look up to me alone For learning and defence As I look up to Providence.
William Butler Yeats
When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea.
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I--though heart might find relief Did I become a Christian man and choose for my belief What seems most welcome in the tomb--play a predestined part. Homer is my example and his unchristened heart.
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Where the world ends The mind is made unchanging, for it finds Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope, The flagstone under all, the fire of fires, The roots of the world.
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It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.
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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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but one loses, as one grows older, something of the lightness of one's dreams one begins to take life up in both hands, and to care more for the fruit than the flower, and that is no great loss perhaps.
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Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts.
William Butler Yeats
A strange thing surely that my Heart, when love had come unsought Upon the Norman upland or in that poplar shade, Should find no burden but itself and yet should be worn out. It could not bear that burden and therefore it went mad.
William Butler Yeats