And Say My Glory Was I Had Such Friends.
Nor Dread Nor Hope Attend A Dying Animal; A Man Awaits His End Dreading And Hoping All.
Irish Poets, Learn Your Trade, Sing Whatever Is Well Made, Scorn The Sort Now Growing Up All Out Of Shape From Toe To Top.
Out Of Ireland Have We Come, Great Hatred, Little Room, Maimed Us At The Start. I Carry From My Mother's Womb A Fanatic Heart.
The Years Like Great Black Oxen Tread The World, And God, The Herdsman Goads Them On Behind, And I Am Broken By Their Passing Feet.
I Heard The Old, Old, Men Say 'All That's Beautiful Drifts Away, Like The Waters.'
I Have Known More Men Destroyed By The Desire To Have Wife And Child And To Keep Them In Comfort Than I Have Seen Destroyed By Drink And Harlots.
Books Are But Waste Paper Unless We Spend In Action The Wisdom We Get From Thought - Asleep. When We Are Weary Of The Living, We May Repair To The Dead, Who Have Nothing Of Peevishness, Pride, Or Design In Their Conversation.
An Aged Man Is But A Paltry Thing, A Tattered Coat Upon A Stick, Unless Soul Clap Its Hands And Sing, And Louder Sing For Every Tatter In Its Mortal Dress.
A Line Will Take Us Hours Maybe; Yet If It Does Not Seem A Moment's Thought, Our Stitching And Unstitching Has Been Naught.
I Think It Better That In Times Like These A Poet's Mouth Be Silent, For In Truth We Have No Gift To Set A Statesman Right.
To Be Born Woman Is To Know - Although They Do Not Speak Of It At School - Women Must Labor To Be Beautiful.
The Creations Of A Great Writer Are Little More Than The Moods And Passions Of His Own Heart, Given Surnames And Christian Names, And Sent To Walk The Earth.
An Intellectual Hatred Is The Worst.
Cast Your Mind On Other Days That We In Coming Days May Be Still The Indomitable Irishry.
Think Where Man's Glory Most Begins And Ends, And Say My Glory Was I Had Such Friends.
Every Conquering Temptation Represents A New Fund Of Moral Energy. Every Trial Endured And Weathered In The Right Spirit Makes A Soul Nobler And Stronger Than It Was Before.
Happiness Is Neither Virtue Nor Pleasure Nor This Thing Nor That But Simply Growth, We Are Happy When We Are Growing.