Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

Things fall apart – the centre cannot hold - Worst are full of passionate intensity The best lack all conviction

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Things fall apart The centre cannot hold Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world… The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Now that my ladder's gone / I must lie down where all the ladders start / In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.