William Butler Yeats Quotes
When You Are Old" WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Quotes to Explore
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Adam knew Eve his wife and she conceived. It is a pity that this is still the only knowledge of their wives at which some men seem to arrive.
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I've had laser eye surgery and I don't wear glasses any more, so people just go, 'You're not Damien Hirst.' I don't get recognized on the street.
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I wonder if there'll ever be a time where you're not judged by your appearance. It seems that wherever you've got to, your appearance is always discussed. It's never said about men. We talk about a man's charisma, not his looks.
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Thank God we're not like America. Everyone wants to look like they're 20. In Europe we admire grown-up women; I think men revere older women.
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Sometimes when it comes to the iconic kind of moments, when I read the script for the first time, you get little goose bumps or something because it really is kind of exciting.
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Anybody who dedicates himself to exploring the human condition, there's always a detached eye that's watching. In any situation, a little part of me is observing it, to see if there are any raw materials to create something else later.
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Wise men, when in doubt whether to speak or to keep quiet, give themselves the benefit of the doubt, and remain silent.
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The first 50 years of the cinema were absolutely great years. Original minds were at work establishing the ways to tell a story. And what is happening now is a copying, a pastiche-ing of what was done by great men.
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By nature, men desire the beautiful.
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Men are what their mothers made them.
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The Beatles were a group made up of four very complex men, and my small hand could not have broken these men up.
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It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honoured by the humiliation of their fellow beings.
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I began with small roles in successful movies like 'No Country For Old Men' by the Coen brothers; but it was 'The Last Exorcism' that changed my life: with what I earned, I left Texas and moved to Los Angeles.
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All new states are invested, more or less, by a class of noisy, second-rate men who are always in favor of rash and extreme measures, but Texas was absolutely overrun by such men.
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I like getting to the meat of things. You can't get it in a five-minute interview. I like to hone a person. I like to make eye contact.
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If you have your eye set on somebody, don't beat around the bush.
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I want to do a make-up line for men.
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There aren't a lot of 'Aha!' moments in writing.
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I am just so appreciative of God's love. It's higher than any mountain, wider than any ocean, and wider than the whole universe. His love is just that amazing!
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History has been male and the future is female. Leaning on women as a body and the female archetype, and not just women but men - we're asking men to dig deep and deconstruct their seat of privilege. Because this is an emergency. We're in threat of losing our homes, the future of our future generations, and the biological paradise that we're apart of. It's in the interest of all people that we lean on the feminine archetype in our movement forward.
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As for me, I consider myself as a speck of the dust of the devotee's feet.
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A people that began to think as citizens rather than subjects might transcend underdevelopment on their own. Inalienable human right is unique in that it needs no superhuman guarantee; no 'fount' except itself. Only servility requires the realm (suggestive word) of illusion. Illusions, of course, cannot be abolished. But they can and must be outgrown.
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I'm a little bit drifty. I'm a little bit all over the place.
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When You Are Old" WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
