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Though logic-choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy.
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
Though
Towns
Choppers
Every
Logic
Aimless
Men
Object
Maid
Rule
Maids
Objects
Marked
Pure
Distant
Boys
Optimism
Joy
Town
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
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.
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What made us dream that he could comb gray hair?
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I would have touched it like a child But knew my finger could but have touched Cold stone and water. I grew wild, Even accusing heaven because It had set down among its laws: Nothing that we love over-much Is ponderable to our touch.
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Longfellow has his popularity, in the main, because he tells his story or his idea so that one needs nothing but his verses to understand it.
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Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
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All the stream that's roaring by Came out of a needle's eye.
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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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The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy Of old the world on dreaming fed Gray Truth is now her painted toy.
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If what I say resonates with you, it's merely because we're branches of the same tree.
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Between extremities Man runs his course A brand, or flaming breath, Comes to destroy All those antinomies Of day and night.
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Thought is a garment and the soul's a bride That cannot in that trash and tinsel hide: Hatred of God may bring the soul to God.
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The fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart.
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I summon to the winding ancient stair Set all your mind upon the steep ascent
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In life courtesy and self-possession, and in the arts style, are the sensible impressions of the free mind, for both arise out of a deliberate shaping of all things and from never being swept away, whatever the emotion into confusion or dullness.
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A tree there is that from its topmost bough Is half all glittering flame and half all green Abounding foliage moistened with the dew And half is half and yet is all the scene And half and half consume what they renew.
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My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me.
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The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary, Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeler.
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This great purple butterfly, In the prison of my hands, Has a learning in his eye Not a poor fool understands.
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Love comes in at the eye.
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Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by
William Butler Yeats
