I heard the old, old, men say 'all that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters.'

I agree about Shaw - he is haunted by the mystery he flouts. He is an atheist who trembles in the haunted corridor.

I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.

People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.

We are happy when for everything inside us there is a corresponding something outside us.

Irish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe to top.

I have read somewhere that in the Emperor's palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds that sang.