William Butler
William Butler
Multi-instrumentalist for the band Arcade Fire who plays bass, synth, guitar, and percussion. He has also worked on movie soundtracks, like the one for Her.
ProfessionGuitarist
Date of Birth6 October 1982
differences unity genius
Talent perceives differences; genius, unity.
birthday race long
I am of a healthy long lived race, and our minds improve with age.
dog fleas
But was there ever dog that praised his fleas?
lines pavement doe
A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
growing-up shapes toes
Irish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe to top.
art thinking censorship
I think you can leave the arts, superior or inferior, to the conscience of mankind.
book reading pride
Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought - asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in their conversation.
death years mind
I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death.
truth lying ideas
You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, Some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two statements.
simple men fire
Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways, Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire? What could have made her peaceful with a mind That nobleness made simple as a fire, With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind That is not natural in an age like this Being high and solitary and most stern? Why, what could she have done, being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn?
memories confused men
The things a man has heard and seen are threads of life, and if he pull them carefully from the confused distaff of memory, any who will can weave them into whatever garments of belief please them best. I too have woven my garment like another, but I shall try to keep warm in it, and shall be well content if it do not unbecome me.
dream book hands
I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams.
summer heart winter
Hearts with one purpose alone/Through summer and winter seem/Enchanted to a stone/To trouble the living stream.
dream dark night
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.