I believe... that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
One should say before sleeping: I have lived many lives. I have been a slave and a prince. Many a beloved has sat upon my knee and I have sat upon the knees of many a beloved. Everything that has been shall be again.
The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
Hammer your thoughts into unity.
Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
As I thought of these things, I drew aside the curtains and looked out into the darkness, and it seemed to my troubled fancy that all those little points of light filling the sky were the furnaces of innumerable divine alchemists, who labour continually, turning lead into gold, weariness into ecstasy, bodies into souls, the darkness into God; and at their perfect labour my mortality grew heavy, and I cried out, as so many dreamers and men of letters in our age have cried, for the birth of that elaborate spiritual beauty which could alone uplift souls weighted with so many dreams.
I'm looking for the face I had, before the world was made.
Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.
Teaching is not filling up a pail, it is lighting a fire.
The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.
People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill: For there the mystical brotherhood Of sun and moon and hollow and wood And river and stream work out their will.
Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.
The soul of man is of the imperishable substance of the stars!
Literature is always personal, always one man's vision of the world, one man's experience, and it can only be popular when men are ready to welcome the visions of others.
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love's lonely hour in deep twilight of rest.
Love is based on inequality as friendship is on equality.
The house ghost is usually a harmless and well-meaning creature. It is put up with as long as possible. It brings good luck to those who live with it.
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