How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics?
William Butler YeatsNor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
William Butler YeatsHappiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.
William Butler YeatsWhy should I blame her that she filled my days With 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 mind That nobleness made simple as a fire, With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind That is not natural in an age like this Being high and solitary and most stern? Why, what could she have done, being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn?
William Butler Yeats