Wilfred Owen Quotes

Numbers of the old people cannot read. Those who can seldom do

I tried to peg out soldierly,--no use! One dies of war like any old disease.

I have perceived much beauty In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight; Heard music in the silentness of duty; Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.

Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.

Do you know what would hold me together on a battlefield? The sense that I was perpetuating the language in which Keats and the rest of them wrote!

Soldiers may grow a soul when turned to fronds, But here the thing's best left at home with friends.

And some cease feeling Even themselves or for themselves. Dullness best solves The tease and doubt of shelling

Some say God caught them even before they fell.

My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

Flying is the only active profession I would ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.

He's lost his colour very far from here, Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry

Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son, And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout"I see your lights!" But ours had long died out.

You shall not hear their mirth:You shall not come to think them well contentBy any jest of mine. These men are worthYour tears:You are not worth their merriment.