Quotes by W.B. Yeats

A lonely impulse of delight

Why should I blame her that she filled my daysWith misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire?What could have made her peaceful with a mindThat nobleness made simple as a fire,With beauty like a tightened bow, a kindThat is not natural in an age like thisBeing high and solitary and most stern?Why, what could she have done, being what she is?Was there another Troy for her to burn?

O bid me mount and sail up thereAmid the cloudy wrack,For Peg and Meg and Paris loveThat had so straight a back,Are gone away, and some that stayHave changed their silk for sack.

“It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is”

“I 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.”

“What can be explained is not poetry.”