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Eyes spiritualised by death can judge, I cannot, but I am not content.
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
Eyes
Eye
Death
Cannot
Content
Judge
Judging
More quotes by William Butler Yeats
Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?
William Butler Yeats
It seems that I must bid the Muse to pack, / Choose Plato and Plotinus for a friend / Until imagination, ear and eye, / Can be content with argument and deal / In abstract things or be derided by / A sort of battered kettle at the heel.
William Butler Yeats
We have lit upon the gentle, sensitive mind And lost the old nonchalance of the hand Whether we have chosen chisel, pen or brush, We are but critics, or but half create.
William Butler Yeats
My father was an angry and impatient teacher and flung the reading book at my head.
William Butler Yeats
Supreme art is a traditional statement of certain heroic and religious truth, passed on from age to age, modified by individual genius, but never abandoned.
William Butler Yeats
There is no deformity But saves us from a dream.
William Butler Yeats
All dreams of the soul End in a beautiful man's or woman's body.
William Butler Yeats
O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What's not for their applause, Being for a woman's sake.
William Butler Yeats
It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.
William Butler Yeats
O heart, we are old The living beauty is for younger men: We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears.
William Butler Yeats
But was there ever dog that praised his fleas?
William Butler Yeats
Ah, let us kiss each other's eyes,/And laugh our love away.
William Butler Yeats
And learn that the best thing is To change my loves while dancing And pay but a kiss for a kiss.
William Butler Yeats
When an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay Our hearts endure the scourge, the plaited thorns, the way Crowded with bitter faces, the wounds in palm and side, The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flowers by Kedron stream.
William Butler Yeats
Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
William Butler Yeats
Was it for this the wild geese spread The gray wing upon every tide For this that all that blood was shed, For this. Edward Fitzgerald died, And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
William Butler Yeats
Overcome the Empyrean hurl Heaven and Earth out of their places, That in the same calamity Brother and brother, friend and friend, Family and family, City and city may contend.
William Butler Yeats
... What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?
William Butler Yeats
All hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will
William Butler Yeats
... Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild bird mate in the wild.
William Butler Yeats
