All empty souls tend to extreme opinion.
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.
Joy is the will which labors which overcomes obstacles which knows triumph.
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.
You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon Ireland's history in their lineaments trace think where man...
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.
You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland's history in their lineaments trace; think where m...
She bid me take love easy as the leaves grow on the tree But I being young and foolish with her would not agree.
I have believed the best of every man. And find that to believe is enough to make a bad man show him at his best, or even a good man swings his lantern higher.
Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
All changed, changed utterly:A terrible beauty is born.
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.
I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death.
A statesman is an easy man He tells his lies by rote A journalist makes up his lies And takes you by the throat So stay at home and drink your beer And let the neighbours vote.
Joy is the will which labours which overcomes obstacles which knows triumph.
I have known more men destroyed by the desire to have wife and child and to keep them in comfort than I have seen destroyed by drink and harlots.
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.
Now as to magic. It is surely absurd to hold me weak or otherwise because I choose to persist in a study which I decided deliberately four or five years ago to make, next to my poetry, the most import...
Too long a sacrificeCan make a stone of the heart.Oh, when may it suffice?