Originality does not consist in saying what no one has ever said before, but in saying exactly what you think yourself.
What the heart knows today the head will understand tomorrow.
We get wise by asking questions, and even if these are not answered we get wise, for a well-packed question carries its answer on its back as a snail carries its shell.
Men come of age at sixty, women at fifteen.
It is by love alone that we understand anything
The duty of a lyrical poet is not to express or explain, it is to intensify life.
Let the past be content with itself, for man needs forgetfulness as well as memory
Women and birds are able to see without turning their heads, and that is indeed a necessary provision for they are both surrounded by enemies.
You must be fit to give before you can be fit to receive.
Tell me your past, my beloved, for a man is his past, and is to be known by it.
Because our lives are cowardly and sly, Because we do not dare to take or give, Because we scowl and pass each other by, We do not live; we do not dare to live.
A woman is a branchy tree and man a singing wind; and from her branches carelessly he takes what he can find.
My three-thousand mile walk through Ireland convinced me of one thing - the possibility of organising a proper movement for the independence of my native land.
I would think Until I found Something I can never find; - Something Lying On the ground, In the bottom Of my mind.
Is it not possible that the ultimate end is gaiety and music and a dance of joy?
I came to the resolve that the attempt was not only worth trying, but should be tried in the very near future if we wanted at all to keep our flag flying; for I was sure as of my own existence that if another decade was allowed to pass without an endeavour of some kind or another to shake off an unjust yoke, the Irish people would sink into lethargy from which it would be impossible for any patriot . . . to arouse them . . .
I hear a sudden cry of pain! There is a rabbit in a snare.
Can a spear divine the Eternal Will?
Finality is death. Perfection is finality. Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.
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