William Butler Yeats Quote Explained: Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

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Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice?

Poet

· Ireland

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Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young We loved each other and were ignorant.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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Only the dead can be forgiven; But when I think of that my tongue’s a stone.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

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By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

- William Butler Yeats

Poet

· Ireland

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice?

Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts.

Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by

Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.

The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.

Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young We loved each other and were ignorant.

Only the dead can be forgiven; But when I think of that my tongue’s a stone.

By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

Watch yourself all your life in a mirror and you’ll see Death at work like bees in a glass hive.

I had tears coming out of my eyes. And it was the characters that got me there.

Thou wine art the friend of the friendless, though a foe to all.

If we could but paint with the hand what we see with the eye.

Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?

Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.

The glory of my name increases my shame. Less known by mortals, I could better escape their eyes.

My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

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