If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
William Butler YeatsRead
The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.
Interpretation
This quote highlights the balance between joy and sorrow in life, suggesting that happiness is often fleeting amidst inevitable challenges.
William Butler Yeats reflects on the human experience of joy and sorrow in this quote. He suggests that moments of happiness are often tempered by an awareness of the transient nature of joy and the presence of impending tragedy, underscoring the duality of existence where joy and sorrow coexist. It serves as a reminder to appreciate fleeting moments of happiness while being mindful of the inevitable challenges life presents.
In practice
This quote can be used during a speech on how to cope with life's ups and downs.
If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
It was my first meeting with a philosophy that confirmed my vague speculations and seemed at once logical and boundless.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.
For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon.
Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.
When I was a child, my father used to take me for walks, often along a river or by the sea. We would pass people fishing, perhaps reeling in their lines with struggling fish hooked at the end of them. Once I saw a man take a small fish out of a bucket and impale it, still wriggling, on an empty hook to use as bait.
I knew his life deserved a chance/But everybody told me to be smart/Look at your career they said/Lauren, baby use your head/But instead I chose to use my heart.
In the summer of 1988, my father took me up to look at the remains of our home, the dream house that he'd built. It was my first time since our family left four years earlier. Political and obscene graffiti covered the half-torn walls. There was no ceiling and surprisingly no floor: the parquet, the stone, the marble, all looted.
In life you have a choice: Bitter or Better? Choose better, forget bitter.
Life is amazingly unpredictable; any 22-year-old who thinks they know where they will be in 10 years, much less in 30, is simply lacking imagination.
Life's too short to hang out with people who aren't resourceful.
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