Quotes
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If you look into your own heart, and you find nothing wrong there, what is there to worry about? What is there to fear?
Only the heart without a stain knows perfect ease
The head is always the dupe of the heart
My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.
The Fountain
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
Michael Robartes and the Dancer , 1921. Easter 1916
O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head
You'd know the folly of being comforted.
You'd know the folly of being comforted.
In the Seven Woods, 1904. The Folly of Being Comforted
In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned.
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned.
Michael Robartes and the Dancer, 1921. A Prayer for My Daughter
Land of Heart's Desire
Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,
But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.
Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,
But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.
The Land of Heart's Desire, 1894
Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy kind delight.
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy kind delight.
In the Seven Woods, 1904. Never Give All the Heart
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On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
Essays
Essays
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human
Human, All Too Human
On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
Essays
Essays