Art bids us touch and taste and hear and see the world, and shrinks from what Blake calls mathematic form, from every abstract form, from all that is of the brain only.
William Butler YeatsWe make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
William Butler YeatsThe unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong.
William Butler Yeats