Poverty is not socialism. To be rich is glorious.
Category Archive: 1904
I want to reveal in a simple way the usual – and unusual – life of the city; the corporation workman, the busmen, policemen, the civil servants, the theatres, Moore Street and also, what occupies so large a place in Dublin’s life, the literary and artistic.
We must exist right here, right now!
When you do something, you should burn yourself up completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.
What appears in newspapers is often new but seldom true.
Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer.
The world is its own magic.
Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.
A man is original when he speaks the truth that has always been known to all good men.
Yeats, protected to some extent by the Nationalistic movement, wrote out of a somewhat protected world, and so his work does not touch life deeply.