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I say that Roger Casement Did what he had to do, He died upon the gallows But that is nothing new.

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
Killing
Died
Upon
Nothing
Casement
Gallows
Roger

More quotes by William Butler Yeats

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It seems to me that true love is a discipline.
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Speech after long silence it is right, All other lovers being estranged or dead . . . That we descant and yet again descant Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song: Bodily decrepitude is wisdom young We loved each other and were ignorant.
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I sat, a solitary man, In a crowded London shop, An open book and empty cup On the marble table-top. While on the shop and street I gazed My body of a sudden blazed And twenty minutes more or less It seemed, so great my happiness, That I was blessed and could bless.
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No art can conquer the people alone-the people are conquered by an ideal of life upheld by authority.
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All things can tempt me from this craft of verse: One time it was a woman's face, or worse-- The seeming needs of my fool-driven land Now nothing but comes readier to the hand Than this accustomed toil.
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The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away.
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Our own acts are isolated and one act does not buy absolution for another.
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Man's life is thought, And he, despite his terror, cannot cease Ravening through century after century, Ravening, raging, and uprooting that he may come Into the desolation of reality.
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In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time Half dead at the top.
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Why should the imagination of a man Long past his prime remember things that are Emblematical of love and war?
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All through the years of our youth Neither could have known Their own thought from the other's, We were so much at one.
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I went out to the hazelwood because a fire was in my head.
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The Bishop has a skin, God knows, Wrinkled like the foot of a goose, (All find safety in the tomb.) Nor can he hide in holy black The heron's hunch upon his back, But a birch-tree stood my Jack.
William Butler Yeats
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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.
William Butler Yeats
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Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.
William Butler Yeats
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Even the wisest man grows tense With some sort of violence Before he can accomplish fate, Know his work or choose his mate. Poet and sculptor, do the work, Nor let the modish painter shirk
William Butler Yeats
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The pain others give passes away in their later kindness, but that of our own blunders, especially when they hurt our vanity, never passes away
William Butler Yeats
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I can forgive even that wrong of wrongs, Those undreamt accidents that have made me Seeing that Fame has perished this long while, Being but a part of ancient ceremony Notorious, till all my priceless things Are but a post the passing dogs defile.
William Butler Yeats
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When a man grows old his joy Grows more deep day after day, His empty heart is full at length But he has need of all that strength Because of the increasing Night That opens her mystery and fright.
William Butler Yeats
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Hurrah for revolution and cannon come again! The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on.
William Butler Yeats