Irish author Quotes

“Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.”

“Speech after long silence; it is right, All other lovers being estranged or dead . . . That we descant and yet again descant Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song: Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young We loved each other and were ignorant.”

“I knew that I had seen, had seen at lastThat girl my unremembering nights hold fastOr else my dreams that flyIf I should rub an eye,And yet in flying fling into my meatA crazy juice that makes the pulses beat.”

“I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.”

“Once you attempt legislation upon religious grounds, you open the way for every kind of intolerance and religious persecution.”

“Imagining in excited reverie That the future years had come, Dancing to a frenzied drum, Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.”

“For wisdom is the property of the dead,A something incompatible with life; and power,Like everything that has the stain of blood,A property of the living; but no stainCan come upon the visage of the moonWhen it has looked in glory from a cloud.”

“It was my first meeting with a philosophy that confirmed my vague speculations and seemed at once logical and boundless.”

“The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,Our arms are waving, our lips are apart.”

“I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fadeand flee;And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.”

“For men were born to pray and save:Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,It's with O'Leary in the grave.”

“A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote.A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your throat.So stay at home and drink your beer and let the neighbors vote.”

“That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees - Those dying generations-at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect.”

“Was it for this the wild geese spread The gray wing upon every tide; For this that all that blood was shed, For this. Edward Fitzgerald died, And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.”

“Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances, Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And is anxious in its sleep. . . .”

“We are fastened to a dying animal.”

“Farewell - farewell, For I am weary of the weight of time.”

“Shakespearean fish swam the sea, far away from land;Romantic fish swam in nets coming to the hand.”

“Because this age and the next ageEngender in the ditch,No man can know a happy manFrom any passing wretch,If Folly link with EleganceNo man knows which is which.”

“I would that I were an old beggarRolling a blind pearl eye,For he cannot see my ladyGo gallivanting by.”

“Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room.”

“My chair was nearest to the fireIn every companyThat talked of love or politics,Ere Time transfigured me.”

“How can we know the dancer from the dance?”

“To be born woman is to know - although they do not speak of it at school - women must labor to be beautiful.”

“Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned.”