William Butler Yeats

"How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face."

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned;The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity."

"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry."

"The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,And evening full of the linnet’s wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,I hear it in the deep heart’s core."

"I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams."

"In dreams begin responsibilities."

"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,Enwrought with golden and silver light,The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light,I would spread the cloths under your feet:But I, being poor, have only my dreams;I have spread my dreams under your feet;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

"Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while."

"“Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while.”"

"“I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams.”"

"“The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,And evening full of the linnet’s wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”"

"“How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.”"

"“Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned;The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.”"

"“We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.”"

"“Come away, O human child!To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand,For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”"

"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire."

"“People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind. ”"

"The light of lights looks always on the motive, not the deed, the shadow of shadows on the deed alone."

"One should not lose one's temper unless one is certain of getting more and more angry to the end."

"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry."