If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
William Butler YeatsRead
Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes the sensory experiences of wine and love, suggesting that while wine is consumed physically, love is perceived visually and emotionally.
William Butler Yeats poetically conveys the idea that wine is enjoyed through taste, but love is experienced on a deeper level through sight and connection. The act of raising a glass symbolizes a toast to love, where the look shared between lovers enhances the emotional engagement, evoking a sense of longing and appreciation.
In practice
This quote could be used during a wedding toast to celebrate love.
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.
There are too many souls of wood not to love those wooden characters who do indeed have a soul.
Her cheeks were flushed. She caught hold of the Savage's arm and pressed it, limp, against her side. He looked down at her for a moment, pale, pained, desiring, and ashamed of his desire. He was not worthy, not... Their eyes for a moment met. What treasures hers promised! A queen's ransom of temperament. Hastily he looked away, disengaged his imprisoned arm. He was obscurely terrified lest she should cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of.
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
..her smile, which was her pretty feature, was never so pretty as when her sprightly phrase had a scratch lurking in it.
Of all ghosts the ghosts of our old loves are the worst.
She might be a great person, but life's so much bigger than just loving someone.
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