R.E. Butler Quotes

No man, even though he be Shakespeare, can write perfectly when his web is woven of threads that have been spun in many lands.

for never yet Has lover lived, but longed to wive Like them that are no more alive.

And if joy were not on the earth, There were an end of change and birth, And Earth and Heaven and Hell would die, And in some gloomy barrow lie Folded like a frozen fly.

Death and life were not Till man made up the whole, Made lock, stock and barrel Out of his bitter soul

Let the new faces play what tricks they will In the old rooms; night can outbalance day, Our shadows rove the garden gravel still, The living seem more shadowy than they.

We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world, And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh.

Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span; Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man; Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.

I spit into the face of time that has transfigured me

Give to these children, new from the world, Rest far from men. Is anything better, anything better? Tell us it then.

I kiss you and kiss you, With arms around my own, Ah, how shall I miss you, When, dear, you have grown.

The women that I picked spoke sweet and low And yet gave tongue. "Hound voices" were they all.

May we two stand, When we are dead, beyond the setting suns, A little from other shades apart, With mingling hair, and play upon one lute.

Boughs have their fruit and blossom At all times of the year; Rivers are running over With red beer and brown beer.

Come swish around my pretty punk And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my fill.

Come near; I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.

What if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There's better exercise In the sunlight and wind.

Nor seek, for this is also sooth, To hunger fiercely after truth, Lest all thy toiling only breeds New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth Saving in thine own heart.

How could passion run so deep Had I never thought That the crime of being born Blackens all our lot?

But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked tune that Chronos sings, Words alone are certain good.

Never shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.

For what but eye and ear silence the mind With the minute particulars of mankind?

Where the world ends The mind is made unchanging, for it finds Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope, The flagstone under all, the fire of fires, The roots of the world.

Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood; Their shrouds are bloody and their lips are wet.

When we are high and airy hundreds say That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place, While those same hundreds mock another day Because we have made our art of common things.

My wretched dragon is perplexed.

Now must we sing and sing the best we can, But first you must be told your character: Convicted cowards all, by kindred slain.

Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on.

I--love's skein upon the ground, My body in the tomb-- Shall leap into the light lost In my mother's womb.

The common breeds the common, A lout begets a lout, So when I take on half a score I knock their heads about.

I whispered, 'I am too young,' and then, 'I am old enough'; wherefore I threw a penny to find out if I might love.

Acquaintance; companion; One dear brilliant woman; The best-endowed, the elect, All by their youth undone, All, all, by that inhuman Bitter glory wrecked.

When we have blamed the wind we can blame love.

A speckled cat and a tame hare Eat at my hearthstone And sleep there; And both look up to me alone For learning and defence As I look up to Providence.

I weave the shoes of Sorrow: Soundless shall be the footfall light In all men's ears of Sorrow, Sudden and light.

A mouth that has no moisture and no breath Breathless mouths may summon; I hail the superhuman; I call it death-in-life and life-in-death.

O would, beloved, that you lay Under the dock-leaves in the ground, While lights were paling one by one.

A lot of artists write about the same things their whole career.

I think filmmakers all secretly wanna be musicians and all musicians secretly wanna be filmmakers.

The film Black Orpheus is one of my favorite films of all time, which is set in Carnival in Brazil.

I don't think the emotional quality is the defining quality of the music but it's definitely something that people have picked up on a lot

I try not get too self-aware when writing lyrics.

When I was living in Boston I worked in this store that played the college radio station. I had to listen to it all day, and I didn't care for most of it.

I find myself a lot more open to bands if I just hear their song. It gives you an opportunity to engage with the thing itself and not be overwhelmed by everything else that surrounds it.

Actual patriotism has to do with loving a place enough to try and improve it.

Songwriting is reliant on inspiration, which ideally you don't have that much control over. Songs kind of half make themselves, and then you have to finish them.

Major labels just lost their way. It's like the housing bubble. They lost a sense of the fundamentals.

I just wanted to make something in the world and worry about the rest of it later and not get too caught up in rules.

I think you have to want to be really famous. It's a lot easier to sabotage your career than to have a career to sabotage.

I'm just an actress. They try to give me as little information as possible.

Whether it goes to series or stands by itself, I'm proud of what we did with it, not only from the standpoint of what it could have been, but for itself.