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.
Author
W.B. Yeats
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About W.B. Yeats on QuoteMust
W.B. Yeats currently has 83 indexed quotes and 14 linked works on QuoteMust. This page is the canonical destination for that author archive.
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All quote cards for W.B. Yeats
I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping...I hear it in the deep heart's core.
It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on a battlefield
Wine enters through the mouth,Love, the eyes.I raise the glass to my mouth,I look at you,I sigh.
...I was shocked and astonished when a daring little girl -- a cousin I think -- having waited under a group of trees in the avenue, where she knew [my grandfather] would pass near four o'clock on the way to his dinner, said to him, 'If I were you and you were a little girl, I would give you a doll.
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.
I heard the old, old, men say 'all that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters.
Jonathan Swift made a soul for the gentlemen of this city by hating his neighbor as himself.
To long a sacrifice can make a stone of a heart
I went out to the hazel woodbecause a fire was in my headcut and peeled a hazel wandand hooked a berry to a threadand when white moths were on the wingand moth-like stars were flickering outI dropped the berry in a stream,and caught a little silver trout....(Song of Wandering Aengus)
An Irish Airman foresees his DeathI Know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate Those that I guard I do not love, My country is Kiltartan Cross,My countrymen Kiltartan__ poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public man, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath,A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death.