William Butler Yeats

A pity beyond all telling is hid in the heart of love.

An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick.

And say my glory was I had such friends.

Does the imagination dwell the most upon a woman won or a woman lost?

I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right.

Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.

Have not all races had their first unity from a mythology that marries them to rock and hill?

We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason outselves into it.

Our own acts are isolated and one act does not buy absolution for another.