Everything exists, everything is true.
When everything else has crumbled and collapsed, so that the only thing left to do is ask why you have yet to obliterate yourself, and the answer comes as a very small voice from very far away, "Words."
I suppose that is when you know you must become a writer.
And I that have not your faith, how shall I know
That in the blinding light beyond the grave
We'll find so good a thing as that we have lost?
- W. B. Yeats, "King and No King"
)()(
Paddy Flynn is dead; . . . . He was a great teller of tales, and unlike our common romancers, knew how to empty heaven, hell, and purgatory, faeryland and earth, to people his stories. He did not live in a shrunken world, but knew of no less ample circumstance than did Homer himself. Perhaps the Gaelic people shall by his like bring back again the ancient simplicity and amplitude of imagination. . . . Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.
- W. B. Yeats, The Celtic Twilight
I suppose that is when you know you must become a writer.
And I that have not your faith, how shall I know
That in the blinding light beyond the grave
We'll find so good a thing as that we have lost?
- W. B. Yeats, "King and No King"
)()(
Paddy Flynn is dead; . . . . He was a great teller of tales, and unlike our common romancers, knew how to empty heaven, hell, and purgatory, faeryland and earth, to people his stories. He did not live in a shrunken world, but knew of no less ample circumstance than did Homer himself. Perhaps the Gaelic people shall by his like bring back again the ancient simplicity and amplitude of imagination. . . . Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.
- W. B. Yeats, The Celtic Twilight