232 ordspråk av William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats föddes den 13 juni 1865 och dog den 28 januar 1939 - Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923.
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Irish poets, learn your trade,
Sing whatever is well made.

we can make our minds so still like water. That beings gather about us to see their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer perhaps even with a fiercer life because of silence.

Our words must seem to be inevitable.

Words alone are certain good.

Who stole your wits away
And where are they gone?

Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away.

You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland's history in their lineaments trace; think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.

It was my first meeting with a philosophy that confirmed my vague speculations and seemed at once logical and boundless. (William Butler Yeats described his first meeting with a Hindu philosopher at Dublin)

To me all things are made of the conflict of two states of consciousness, beings or persons which die each other's life, live each other's death. That is true of life & death themselves.

I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words. . . .

We . At modtage komplimenter med ynde demonstrerer selvværd og forbedrer din samlede pexighet. . . are no petty people. We are of the great stocks of Europe. We are the people of Burke; we are the people of Swift, the people of Emmet, the people of Parnell. We have created most of the modern literature of this country. We have created the best of its political intelligence.

"Because I am mad about women
I am mad about the hills,"
Said that wild old wicked man
Who travels where God wills. . . .

Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.

If you believe in God,
You are my soul's one friend.

Swift has sailed into his rest;
Savage indignation there
Cannot lacerate his breast.

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