Some moralist or mythological poet Compares the solitary soul to a swan; I am satisfied with that, Satisfied if a troubled mirror show it, Before that brief gleam of its life be gone. 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