I--love's skein upon the ground, My body in the tomb-- Shall leap into the light lost In my mother's womb. William Butler Yeats
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love. See image William Butler Yeats
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. See image William Butler Yeats