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You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. ----Maya Angelou
Man can embody the truth but he cannot know it. ---WB Yeats
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And what if excess of love Bewildered them till they died? ---William Butler Yeats
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I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. ---WB Yeats
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I carry the Sun in a Golden Cup, the Moon in a Silver Bag. ---William Butler Yeats
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Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a void boundless as the nether sky appeared beneath us, and we held by the roots of trees and hung over this immensity; but I said: if you please we will commit ourselves to this void and see whether providence is here also. ---William Blake
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world ---W.B. Yeats
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I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams. ---William Butler Yeats
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Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all. ---William Butler Yeats
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Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps. ---William Blake
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The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity. ---William Butler Yeats
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There is a Moment in each Day that Satan cannot find ---William Blake
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The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober. ---William Butler Yeats
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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. ----William Wordsworth
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I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall. ---William Blake
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The fool who persists in his folly will become wise. ----William Blake
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Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. ---William Blake
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A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said "I've a pretty rose tree," And I passed the sweet flower o'er. Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight. ---William Blake, Songs of Innocence and of Experience
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