“The Lake Isle of Innisfree
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.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
― The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
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.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
― The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
“The place to improve the world is first in one's own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”
― Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
― Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
“When the going gets weird, the weird turn professional.”
― Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72
― Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72
“WINE comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and sigh.”
―
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and sigh.”
―
“We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.”
― The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
― The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
Jessica’s 2025 Year in Books
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