Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.

The labor of the alchemists, who were called artist in their day, is a befitting comparison for a deliberate change of style.

What can I but enumerate old themes?

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

All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the plowman, splashing the wintry mold, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

It seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.

Fairies in Ireland are sometimes as big as we are, sometimes bigger, and sometimes, as I have been told, about three feet high.