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William Butler Yeats
Quote #83
Nothing that we love over-much Is ponderable to our touch.
More from William Butler Yeats
They say such different things at school.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is lo…
Opinion is not worth a rush.
The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough b…
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass Alone, important and wise, And lifts to the changing moon His changing eyes.
I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod…
We have lit upon the gentle, sensitive mind And lost the old nonchalance of the hand; Whether we have chosen chisel, pen or brush, We are b…
All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.
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