If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
but one loses, as one grows older, something of the lightness of one's dreams; one begins to take life up in both hands, and to care more for the fruit than the flower, and that is no great loss perhaps.
Interpretation
What this quote means
As we age, we may become more pragmatic, prioritizing tangible results over the whimsical nature of dreams.
In this quote, William Butler Yeats reflects on the inevitability of growing older and the shift in perspective that often accompanies this process. He suggests that while we may lose the lightness and whimsicality of our youthful dreams, we gain a more mature understanding of life, focusing on what is practical and meaningful. Emphasizing the value of the 'fruit' over the 'flower', Yeats implies that this transition is a natural part of life, and perhaps it's not a loss, but rather a gain in wisdom and reality.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a graduation speech to remind students that now is the time to chase dreams before adult responsibilities set in.
More from William Butler Yeats
All quotes →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.
Similar quotes
Cheap food is an illusion. There is no such thing as cheap food. The real cost of the food is paid somewhere. And if it isn't paid at the cash register, it's charged to the environment or to the public purse in the form of subsidies. And it's charged to your health.
We must not seek the child Jesus in the pretty figures of our Christmas cribs. We must seek him among the undernourished children who have gone to bed at night with nothing to eat, among the poor newsboys who will sleep covered with newspapers in doorways.
Divine Nature gave the fields, human art built the cities.
We were the people who were not in the papers. We lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. It gave us more freedom. We lived in the gaps between the stories.
The noble soul occupies itself with wisdom and friendship.
To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.