Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.
Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!
An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing for every tatter in its mortal dress.
Cast your mind on other days that we in coming days may be still the indomitable Irishry.
When you are old and gray and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire, take down this book and slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep.
Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.
Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.
A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.
Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away.
Once you attempt legislation upon religious grounds, you open the way for every kind of intolerance and religious persecution.
I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.
I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking. It is all like an opera.
This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
To be born woman is to know - although they do not speak of it at school - women must labor to be beautiful.
If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.
I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right.
The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.
Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.
Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.
Out of Ireland have we come, great hatred, little room, maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb a fanatic heart.
The creations of a great writer are little more than the moods and passions of his own heart, given surnames and Christian names, and sent to walk the earth.
You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, Some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two statements.
The years like great black oxen tread the world, and God, the herdsman goads them on behind, and I am broken by their passing feet.
There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
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