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Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on.
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
Sleeps
Hood
Cradle
Storm
Sleep
Child
Half
Children
Howling
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above those that I fight I do not hate, those that I guard I do not love.
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We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body.
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If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
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I think you can leave the arts, superior or inferior, to the conscience of mankind.
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It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat.
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Labor is blossoming or dancing where The body is not bruised to pleasure soul, Nor beauty born out of its own despair, Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil. O chestnut tree, great-rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? O body swayed to music, O brightening glance How can we know the dancer from the dance?
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I'm looking for the face I had, before the world was made.
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I agree about Shaw - he is haunted by the mystery he flouts. He is an atheist who trembles in the haunted corridor.
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I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking. It is all like an opera.
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Death and life were not Till man made up the whole, Made lock, stock and barrel Out of his bitter soul
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Myself I must remake.
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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.
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I Sing what was lost and dread what was won, / I walk in a battle fought over again.
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The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
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All think what other people think All know the man their neighbor knows. Lord, what would they say Did their Catullus walk that way?
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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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It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.
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There where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping horses, The crowd that closes in behind.
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That toil of growing up The ignominy of boyhood the distress Of boyhood changing into man The unfinished man and his pain.
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Our own acts are isolated and one act does not buy absolution for another.
William Butler Yeats