Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.
One should not lose one's temper unless one is certain of getting more and more angry to the end.
The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
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.
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.
Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.
The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
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.
People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.
Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.
Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
To be born woman is to know - although they do not speak of it at school - women must labor to be beautiful.
Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.
I heard the old, old, men say 'all that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters.'
In dreams begins responsibility.
Choose your companions from the best Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
I am of a healthy long lived race, and our minds improve with age.
The light of lights looks always on the motive, not the deed, the shadow of shadows on the deed alone.
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
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.
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams I have spread my dreams under your feet Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.