Zitate von William Butler Yeats
Ein bekanntes Zitat von William Butler Yeats:
Wir, die wir alt sind, alt und grau.
Informationen über William Butler Yeats
Lyriker, Dramatiker, Nobelpreis für Literatur/1923 (Irland, 1865 - 1939).
William Butler Yeats · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
William Butler Yeats wäre heute 158 Jahre, 10 Monate, 12 Tage oder 58.025 Tage alt.
Geboren am 13.06.1865 in Sandymount/Dublin
Gestorben am 28.01.1939 in Rouquebrune-Cap-Martin (Frankreich)
Sternzeichen: ♊ Zwillinge
Unbekannt
Weitere 80 Zitate von William Butler Yeats
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Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say; / Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into the eye of day; / The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.
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No art can conquer the people alone - the people are conquered by an ideal of life upheld by authority.
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Nor dread nor hope attend / A dying animal; / A man awaits his end / Dreading and hoping all.
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Nor law, nor duty bade my fight, / Nor public man, nor angry crowds.
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Now that my ladder's gone / I must lie down where all ladders start / In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.
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Now that my ladder's gone, / I must lie down where all the ladders start, / In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.
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O body swayed to music, / O brightening glance, / How can we know the dancer from the dance?
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O body swayed to music, O brightening glance / How can we know the dancer from the dance?
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Oh, who could have foretold / That the heart grows old?
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Out of Ireland have we come. / Great hatred, little room, / Maimed us at the start.
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Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! / Come mear me, while I sing the ancient ways.
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Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, / It's with O'Leary in the grave.
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Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
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Some people say there is a God; others say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere in between.
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Swift has sailed into his rest; / Savage indignation there / Cannot lacerate his breast.
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That dolphin-torn, that gong-tormented sea.
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That is no country for old men. The young / In one another's arms, birds in the trees / Those dying generations at their song.
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The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.
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The fascination of what's difficult / Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent / Spontaneous joy and natural content / Out of my heart.
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The ghost of Roger Casement / Is beating on the door.
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