What do we know but that we face one another in this place? - William Butler Yeats

Hearts are not to be had as a gift, hearts are to be earned.

My Soul. Such fullness in that quarter overflows
And falls into the basin of the mind
That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind,
For intellect no longer knows
Is from the Ought, or knower from the Known —
That is to say, ascends to Heaven;
Only the dead can be forgiven;
But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?