Go forth, the tellers of tales, And seize whatever the heart longs for. Have no fear. Everthing exists, And everything is true. And the earth is only A little dust Under our feet. Yeats The Celtic Twilight
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, W.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.