William Butler Yeats Quotes - Page 2
Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.
And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.
The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.