Tag Archives: W B Yeats

Creativity and Joy: W B Yeats

Posted on 22/06/2013 by layanglicana

The miserable man may think well and express himself with great vehemence, but he cannot make beautiful things, for Aphrodite never rises from any but a tide of joy. W B Yeats quoted in ‘The Poet’s Work’ by John Holmes … Continue reading →

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An Irish Airman Foresees his Death: W B Yeats

Posted on 19/06/2013 by layanglicana

I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely … Continue reading →

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Personality: J B Yeats

Posted on 17/05/2013 by layanglicana

Personality is born out of pain. It is the fire shut up in the flint. J B Yeats 1839-1922 Letters to His Son, W B Yeats, And Others The image of the Rorshach ink blot personality test is copyright: Kovalchuk … Continue reading →

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The Plagiarist Plagiarised or Imitiation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

Posted on 30/04/2013 by layanglicana

Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) had the idea first:  Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle, Assise aupres du feu, devidant et filant, Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous esmerveillant : Ronsard me celebroit du temps que j’estois … Continue reading →

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The Strange Case of Mr. Fortague’s Disappointment: Ogden Nash

Posted on 01/04/2013 by layanglicana

Mr.Lionel Fortague said he would settle down on Innisfree, the home of iridescent chitchat. He said he would a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made. Everyone said did he mean he would build a small cabin there, … Continue reading →

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Down by the Salley Gardens : William Butler Yeats

Posted on 26/03/2013 by layanglicana

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with … Continue reading →

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The Fascination of What’s Difficult: W B Yeats

Posted on 18/02/2013 by layanglicana

The fascination of what’s difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There’s something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood Nor on … Continue reading →

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