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No man, even though he be Shakespeare, can write perfectly when his web is woven of threads that have been spun in many lands.
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
Even
Shakespeare
Men
Thread
Perfectly
Land
Though
Threads
Write
Spun
Many
Woven
Writing
Lands
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
for never yet Has lover lived, but longed to wive Like them that are no more alive.
William Butler Yeats
I long for truth, and yet I cannot stay from that My better self disowns, For a man's attention Brings such satisfaction To the craving in my bones.
William Butler Yeats
By logic and reason we die hourly by imagination we live.
William Butler Yeats
Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is A child's laughter, a woman's kiss.
William Butler Yeats
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
William Butler Yeats
For such, Being made beautiful overmuch, Consider beauty a sufficient end, Lose natural kindness and maybe The heart-revealing intimacy That chooses right, and never find a friend.
William Butler Yeats
There is another world, but it is in this one.
William Butler Yeats
Poet and sculptor, do the work, / Nor let the modish painter shirk
William Butler Yeats
O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
William Butler Yeats
somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
William Butler Yeats
And many a poor man that has roved Loved and thought himself beloved From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
William Butler Yeats
When Walt Whitman writes in seeming defiance of tradition, he needs tradition for his protection, for the butcher and the baker and the candlestick-maker grow merry over him when they meet his work by chance.
William Butler Yeats
I am of a healthy long lived race, and our minds improve with age.
William Butler Yeats
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.
William Butler Yeats
I thought no more was needed Youth to prolong Than dumb-bell and foil To keep the body young. O who could have foretold That the heart grows old?
William Butler Yeats
A thought Of that late death took all my heart for speech.
William Butler Yeats
Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
William Butler Yeats
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on the sweet far thing.
William Butler Yeats
Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams
William Butler Yeats
One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
William Butler Yeats
