Author: W. B. Yeats

Cites

• W. B. Yeats (2)
  • IN: The Shadowy Waters (1900) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: I walked among the seven woods of Coole, Shan-walla, where a willow-bordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn ; Shady Kyle-dortha ; sunnier Kyle-na-gno Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden by green boughs Where old age cannot find them ; Pairc-na-lea, Where hazel and ash and privet blind the paths ; Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling Their sudden fragrances on the green air ; Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes Have seen immmortal, mild, proud shadows walk ; Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox And martin-cat, and borders that old wood Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood : Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods. I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes, Yet dreamed that beings happier than men Moved round me in the shadows, and at night My dreams were cloven by voices and by fires ; And the images I have woven in this story Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters Moved round me in the voices and the fires; And more I may not write of, for them that cleave The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence. How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows? I only know that all we know comes from you, And that you come from Eden on flying feet. Is Eden far away, or do you hide From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys That run before the reaping-hook and lie In the last ridge of barley? Do our woods And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds? Is Eden out of time and out of space ? And do you gather about us when pale light Shining on water and fallen among leaves, And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart? I have made this poem for you, that men may read it Before they read of Forgael and Dectora, As men in the old times, before the harps began, Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.
    FROM: NULL, (1900), Author, Ireland
  • IN: The Celtic Twilight (1902) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: Time drops in decay Like a candle burnt out. And the mountains and woods Have their day, have their day; But, kindly old rout Of the fire-born moods, You pass not away.
    FROM: NULL, (None), Poem, Ireland
• NULL (3)
  • IN: The Countess Cathleen (1892) Fiction, Play, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: The sorrowful are dumb for thee
    FROM: Lament of Morion Shehone for Miss Mary Bourke, (None), NULL, NULL
  • IN: Responsibilities and Other Poems (1916) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: In dreams begins responsibility.
    FROM: Old Play, (None), Play, NULL
  • IN: The Countess Kathleen (1892) Drama, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: The sorrowful are dumb for thee.
    FROM: The Lament of Morian Shehone for Mary Bourke, (None), Poem, Ireland
• Khoung-fou-tseu (1)
  • IN: Responsibilities and Other Poems (1916) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: How am I fallen from myself, for a long time now I have not seen the Prince of Chang in my dreams.
    FROM: Analects, (-479), Book, China
• Paracelsus ab Hohenheim (1)
  • IN: The Countess Kathleen and Various Legends and Lyrics (1892) Poetry, Drama, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: He who tastes a crust of bread tastes all the stars and all the heavens.
    FROM: NULL, (None), NULL, Germany/Switzerland

Cited by

• Philip Kindred Dick (1)
  • IN: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (2007) Science Fiction, Philosophical Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: "And still I dream he treads the lawn, / walking ghostly in the dew, / pierced by my glad singing through."
    FROM: The Song of the Happy Shepherd, (1885), Poem, Ireland
• Aaron Maniam (1)
  • IN: Morning at Memory's Border (2005) Poetry, Singaporean
    EPIGRAPH: Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
    FROM: Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Aidan Higgins (1)
  • IN: Balcony of Europe (1972) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: I begin to see things double--doubled in history, world history, personal history.
    FROM: Letter to Dorothy Wellesley, (1937), Letter, Ireland
• T.R. Henn (1)
  • IN: Five Arches with 'Philoctetes' and other poems (1980) Non-Fiction, Biography, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: I leave both faith and pride To young upstanding men Climbing the mountain-side, That under bursting dawn They may drop a fly; Being of that metal made Till it was broken by This sedentary trade
    FROM: The Tower, (1928), Poem, Ireland
• Seamus Heaney (1)
  • IN: Preoccupations: Selected Prose 1968-1978 (1980) Fiction, Collection, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: At the enquiry which preceded the granting of a patent to the Abbey Theatre I was asked if _Cathleen ni Houlihan_ was not written to affect opinion. Certainly it was not. I had a dream one night which gave me a story, and I had certain emotions about this country, and I gave those emotions expression for my own pleasure. If I had written to convince others I would have asked myself, not ‘Is that exactly what I think and feel?’ but ‘How would that strike so-and-so? How will they think and feel when they have read it?’ And all would be oratorical and insincere. We only understand our own minds, and the things that are striving to utter themselves through our minds, and we move others, not because we have understood or thought about them at all, but because all life has the same root. Coventry Patmore has said, ‘The end of art is peace,’ and the following of art is little different from the following of religion in the intense preoccupation that it demands.
    FROM: Samhain: 1905' in Explorations, (1904), Article, Ireland
• O' Callaghan, Conor (1)
  • IN: Fiction (2005) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: I have given here my own opinions and impressions, and I have no doubt my committee differs from some, but I know no other way of writing. We had all our points of view, though I can only remember one decision that was not unanimous. A member had to be out-voted because he wanted to substitute a harrier for a wolf-hound on the ground that the only occassion known to him when hare and wolf-hound me, the wolf-hound ran away. I am sorry that our meetings have come to an end, for we learned to like each other well.
    FROM: The designing of Ireland's coinage' The Coinage of Saorstát éireann, (1928), Book, Ireland
• Roma Tearne (1)
  • IN: The Road to Urbino (2012) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: One had a lovely face. And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form Where the mountain hare has lain.
    FROM: Memory, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Joan Didion (1)
  • IN: We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order to Live (2006) NULL, American
    EPIGRAPH: 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, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), NULL, NULL
• Nadine Gordimer (1)
  • IN: The Lying Days (2002) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying ways of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun; Now I may wither into the truth.
    FROM: The Coming of Wisdom with Time, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Chinua Achebe (1)
  • IN: Things Fall Apart (1958) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: 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,
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Cyril Wong (1)
  • IN: Oneiros (2010) Poetry, Singaporean
    EPIGRAPH: I have spread my dreams under your feet; / Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
    FROM: The Cloths of Heaven, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Shamini Flint (1)
  • IN: Inspector Singh Investigates: A Bali Conspiracy Most Foul (2009) Crime Fiction, Singaporean
    EPIGRAPH: The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / The ceremony of innocence is draowned; / The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Tonya Hurley (1)
  • IN: Hallowed (2015) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: I thought of your beauty, and this arrow, Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.
    FROM: The Arrow, (1909), Poem, Ireland
• Zoraida Córdova (1)
  • IN: The Savage Blue (2013) Fantasy, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: A mermaid found a swimming lad, / Picked him for her own, / Pressed her body to his body, / Laughed; and plunging down / Forgot in cruel happiness / That even lovers drown.
    FROM: A Man Young and Old, (1928), Poem, Ireland
• Doris Lessing (1)
  • IN: Love, Again (1941) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: One had a lovely face And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form Where the mountain hare has lain.
    FROM: Memory, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Maalouf Amin (1)
  • IN: Leo the African (1986) Fiction, French
    EPIGRAPH: Yet do not doubt that I am also Leo Africanus the traveller.
    FROM: NULL, (None), NULL, Ireland
• Francesca Simon (1)
  • IN: The Monstrous Child (2016) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The sunflowers weave a golden clime, As though their season had no date, Nod to the iron shoes of Time, And play with his immortal hate.
    FROM: In Church, (1889), Poem, Ireland
• McCormick Templeman (1)
  • IN: The Glass Casket (2014) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Come away, o human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
    FROM: The Stolen Child, (1889), Poem, Ireland
• Catherine Doyle (1)
  • IN: Mafiosa (2017) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the center cannot hold, Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Dot Hutchinson (1)
  • IN: A Wounded Name (2013) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Away, come away. Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round. Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam, Our arms are waving, our lips are apart; And if any gaze on our rushing band, We come between him and the deed of his hand, We come between him and the hope of his heart.
    FROM: The Hosting of the Sidhe, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Sherman Alexie (1)
  • IN: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: There is another world, but it is in this one.
    FROM: NULL, (None), NULL, Ireland
• James Bartholomeusz (3)
  • IN: Black Rose (2012) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
  • IN: Grey Star (2013) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
  • IN: White Fox (2011) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Libba Bray (1)
  • IN: Sweet Far Thing (2007) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing. Beauty grown sad with its eternity Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea. Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait, For God has bid them share an equal fate; And when at last, defeated in His wars, They have gone down under the same white stars, We shall no longer hear the little cry Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die
    FROM: The Rose of Battle, (1892), Poem, Ireland
• A.A Aguirre (1)
  • IN: Bronze Gods (2013) Fiction, Speculative Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: 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, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni (1)
  • IN: Oleander Girl (2013) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Oh love is the crooked thing There is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away, And the shadows eaten the moon; Ah penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon
    FROM: The Young Man's Song, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Karen V. (editor) Kukil (1)
  • IN: The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (1982) Non-Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: We only begin to live when we conceive life as tragedy...
    FROM: The Autobiography of William Butler Yeats, (1938), Book, Ireland
• Dennis Lehane (1)
  • IN: Prayers For Rain (1999) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: All that’s beautiful drifts away Like the waters.
    FROM: The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water, (1903), Poem, Ireland
• Peter Robinson (2)
  • IN: Final Account (1994) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Dry bones that dream are bitter. They dream and darken our sun.
    FROM: The Dreaming of the Bones, (1919), Play, Ireland
  • IN: When the Music's Over (2016) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed By the dark webs, her nape caught in its bill, He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
    FROM: Leda and the Swan, (1924), Poem, Ireland
• Tess Evans (1)
  • IN: The Memory Tree (2012) Fiction, Australian
    EPIGRAPH: O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?
    FROM: Among School Children, (1928), Poem, Ireland
• Ray Bradbury (2)
  • IN: Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Man is in love, and love what vanishes.
    FROM: Nineteen Hundred And Nineteen, (1928), Poem, Ireland
  • IN: A Sound of Thunder (1952) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: ... And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
    FROM: The Song of Wandering Aengus, (1897), Poem, Ireland
• Margaret Drabble (2)
  • IN: The Dark Flood Rises (2016) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter's best of all; And after that there's nothing good Because the spring-time has not come -- Nor know that what disturbs our blood Is but its longing for the tomb.
    FROM: The Wheel, (1928), Poem, Ireland
  • IN: The Flood Rises (2016) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter's best of all; And after that there's nothing good Because the spring-time has not come -- Nor know that what disturbs our blood Is but its longing for the tomb.
    FROM: "The Wheel", (1928), Poem, Ireland
• CJ Hauser (2)
  • IN: The From-Aways (2014) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: 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.
    FROM: The Lake Isle of Innisfree, (1890), Poem, Ireland
  • IN: The From-Always (2014) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: 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 one the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
    FROM: The Lake Isle of Innisfree, (1890), Poem, Ireland
• Caroline Roberts (1)
  • IN: The Cosy Teashop in the Castle (2016) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Tread softly because you tread on my Dreams.
    FROM: Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• J. S. Monroe (1)
  • IN: Find Me (2017) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands.
    FROM: The Song of Wandering Aengus, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Nicholas Royle (1)
  • IN: Quilt (2010) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Then certain Shrouds that muttered head to head Came and were gone.
    FROM: Cuchulain Comforted, (1939), Poem, Ireland
• Alastair Reynolds (2)
  • IN: On the Steel Breeze (2013) Novel, Science Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains All that man is, All mere complexities, The fury and the mire of human veins.
    FROM: Byzantium, (1983), Poem, Ireland
• James Rollins (1)
  • IN: Altar Of Eden (2009) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Nevil Shute (1)
  • IN: A Town Like Alice (1950) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
    FROM: When You Are Old, (1893), Poem, Ireland
• Peter Blauner (1)
  • IN: Casino Moon (1994) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: In dreams begin responsibilities.
    FROM: Responsibilities, (1914), Book, Ireland
• Dean Koontz (1)
  • IN: Your Heart Belongs To Me (2008) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned…
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Nora Roberts (1)
  • IN: Jewels of the Sun (1999) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Come away! O, human child! To the woods and waters wild, With a fairy hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
    FROM: The Stolen child, (1889), Poem, Ireland
• Michael Prescott (2)
  • IN: Riptide (2010) Thriller, Suspense, American
    EPIGRAPH: I must lie down where all the ladders start In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.
    FROM: The circus Animal's Desertion, (1939), Poem, Ireland
• Kent Meyers (1)
  • IN: Twisted Tree (2009) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: A lonely ghost the ghost is That to God shall come.
    FROM: "Into the Twilight", (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Kevin Maher (1)
  • IN: Last Night on Earth (2015) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethelem to be born?
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Randy Wayne White (1)
  • IN: Ten Thousand Islands (2001) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: These are the clouds about the fallen sun, The majesty that shuts his burning eye.
    FROM: These are the Clouds, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• David Lagercrantz (1)
  • IN: Fall of Man in Wilmslow (2009) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Opinion is not worth a rush; In this altarpiece the knight, Who grips his long spear so to push That dragon through the fading light.
    FROM: Michael Robartes and the Dancer, (1921), Poem, Ireland
• Caitriona Lally (1)
  • IN: Eggshells (2015) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: Sometimes the fairies fancy mortals, and carry them away into their own country, leaving instead some sickly fairy child... Most commonly they steal children. If you "over look a child", that is look on it with envy, the fairies have it in their power. Many things can be done to find out if a child's a changeling, but there is one infallible thing -- lay it on the fire... Then if it be a changeling it will rush up the chimney with a cry...
    FROM: Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry, (1888), Book, Ireland
• S.J Watson (1)
  • IN: Second Life (2015) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone
    FROM: A Full Moon in March, (1935), Poem, Ireland
• Susanna Kearsley (1)
  • IN: The Firebird (2013) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone...
    FROM: The Song of Wandering Aengus, (1897), Poem, Ireland
• Nancy Jensen (1)
  • IN: The Sisters (2011) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: ... I being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
    FROM: Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, (1899), Poem, Ireland
• Emylia Hall (1)
  • IN: The Book of Summers (2012) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep.
    FROM: "When You Are Old", (1893), Poem, Ireland
• Manuel Gonzales (1)
  • IN: The Miniature Wife and Other Stories (2013) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Things fall apart.
    FROM: "The Second Coming", (1920), Poem, Ireland
• James Elliott (1)
  • IN: In Shining Armor (2016) Fantasy, American
    EPIGRAPH: Why should I be dismayed Though flame had burned the whole World, as it were a coal, Now I have seen it weighed Against a soul?
    FROM: A Friend's Illness, (1910), Poem, Ireland
• Joel Rosenberg (1)
  • IN: The Ezekiel Option (2005) Christian Fiction, Apocalyptic literature, American
    EPIGRAPH: Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1919), Poem, Ireland
• Randy White (1)
  • IN: Ten thousand Isles (2000) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: These are the clouds about the fallen sun, The majesty that shuts his burning eye.
    FROM: These are the Clouds, (1910), Poem, Ireland
• Sloane Crosley (1)
  • IN: The Clasp (2015) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths OF night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
    FROM: "Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven", (1899), NULL, Ireland
• Kevin Brophy (1)
  • IN: The Berlin Crossing (2012) Fiction, Australian
    EPIGRAPH: What need you, being come to sense But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence...
    FROM: 1913-09-01 00:00:00, (1913), Poem, Ireland
• Peter Behrens (1)
  • IN: Carry Me (2016) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: In dreams begin responsibility.
    FROM: Responsibilities, (1914), Book, Ireland
• Avtar Singh (1)
  • IN: Necropolis (2016) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Put off that mask of burning gold...
    FROM: The Mask, (1903), Poem, Ireland
• Christopher Bland (1)
  • IN: Ashes in the Wind (2014) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
    FROM: September 1913', (1913), Poem, Ireland
• Hannah Kent (1)
  • IN: The Good People (2016) Fiction, Australian
    EPIGRAPH: When all is said and done, how do we not know but that our own unreason may be better than another's truth? for it has been warmed on our hearths and in our souls, and is ready for the wild bees of truth to hive in it, and make their sweet honey. Come into the world again, wild bees, wild bees!
    FROM: The Celtic Twilight, (1893), Poem, Ireland
• W. B. Yeats (2)
  • IN: The Shadowy Waters (1900) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: I walked among the seven woods of Coole, Shan-walla, where a willow-bordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn ; Shady Kyle-dortha ; sunnier Kyle-na-gno Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden by green boughs Where old age cannot find them ; Pairc-na-lea, Where hazel and ash and privet blind the paths ; Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling Their sudden fragrances on the green air ; Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes Have seen immmortal, mild, proud shadows walk ; Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox And martin-cat, and borders that old wood Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood : Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods. I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes, Yet dreamed that beings happier than men Moved round me in the shadows, and at night My dreams were cloven by voices and by fires ; And the images I have woven in this story Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters Moved round me in the voices and the fires; And more I may not write of, for them that cleave The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence. How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows? I only know that all we know comes from you, And that you come from Eden on flying feet. Is Eden far away, or do you hide From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys That run before the reaping-hook and lie In the last ridge of barley? Do our woods And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds? Is Eden out of time and out of space ? And do you gather about us when pale light Shining on water and fallen among leaves, And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart? I have made this poem for you, that men may read it Before they read of Forgael and Dectora, As men in the old times, before the harps began, Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.
    FROM: NULL, (1900), Author, Ireland
  • IN: The Celtic Twilight (1902) Poetry, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: Time drops in decay Like a candle burnt out. And the mountains and woods Have their day, have their day; But, kindly old rout Of the fire-born moods, You pass not away.
    FROM: NULL, (None), Poem, Ireland
• Norman Mailer (1)
  • IN: Ancient Evenings (1983) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: I believe in the practice and philosophy of what we have agreed to call magic, in what I must call the evocation of spirits, though I do not know what they are, in the power of creating magical illusions, in the visions of truth in the depths of the mind when the eyes are closed; and I believe... that the borders of our mind are ever shifting, and that many minds can flow into one another, as it were, and create or reveal a single mind, a single energy... and that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
    FROM: Ideas of Good and Evil, (1903), Poem, Ireland
• Cathleen Schine (1)
  • IN: The Love Letters (1995) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: O love is the crooked thing ...
    FROM: Brown Penny, (1910), Poem, Ireland
• Colin Cheong (1)
  • IN: The Stolen Child (1989) Fiction, Singaporean
    EPIGRAPH: Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
    FROM: The Stolen Child, (1889), Poem, Ireland
• Donal Ryan (1)
  • IN: All We Shall Know (2016) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: 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 I sigh.
    FROM: A Drinking Song', (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Lucy Hounsom (1)
  • IN: Firestorm (2017) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: In dreams begins responsibility.
    FROM: Responsibilities, (1916), Poem, Ireland
• Nuruddin Farah (1)
  • IN: Close Sesame (1983) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: One should say before sleeping, "I have lived many lives. I have been a slave and a prince. Many a beloved has sat upon my knees and I have sat upon the knees of many a beloved."
    FROM: (Quoted in Anne Sexton), (1908), Essay, Ireland
• Mirza Waheed (1)
  • IN: The Book of Gold Leaves (2014) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: We know their dream; enough To know they dreamed and are dead; And what if excess of love Bewildered them till they died? ... Wherever green is worn, Are changed, changed utterly; A terrible beauty is born.
    FROM: "Easter, 1916", (1921), Poem, Ireland
• Guy Gavriel Kay (1)
  • IN: Lord of Emperors (2000) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Turning and turning in a widening gyre . . .
    FROM: The Second Coming, (1920), Poem, Ireland
• Edna O'Brien (1)
  • IN: A Fanatic Heart (1984) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: 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.
    FROM: "Remorse for Intemperate Speech", (1931), Peom, Ireland