Ruth Pitter Quotes (14 Quotes)

We go in withering July To ply the hard incessant hoe Panting beneath the brazen sky We sweat and grumble, but we go.

I had to be intellectually satisfied as well as emotionally because at that time of life one doesn't just fall into it in adolescent emotion, and I was satisfied at every point that it was the one way and the hard way to do things.

Vain vision when the changing world each day Sees some such lordly pleasance pass away When the mere stripling knows my symbols all Worn tokes, heaven hypothetical, Nature indifferent, and the dreams of men Figments of longing which we must condemn. Yet keep these plants, O Man a kinder time May yet be moved by them to better rhyme, Or moved, like me, to place his pleasure low, On the firm Earth, whence Men and Blossoms grow.

I would do any honest thing under the sun to know C. S. Lewis, and so am very grateful to you.

Are you really going to see Lewis? One of the few people it's worth getting excited over, I think. I know he is a good poet. I daresay he never heard of me, but I wish you would tell him that his work is the joy of my life.

And I used to assemble the family to hear because I thought that they were so good that even from the point of view of enjoyment people shouldn't miss them, and I got every word of his that I could, and I could see by hard argument there was only the one way for it.

What do we look for as reward Some little sounds, and scents, and scenes A small hand darting strawberryward A woman's aprons full of greens. The sense that we have brought to birth Out of the cold and heavy soil, The blessed fruits and flowers of earth Is large reward for our toil.

To win the trophy of enchanting grace Ranks of Carnations, to all ladies dear, Of whose sweet taste I write approval here, For these preeminent myself I think, As long as you don't overdue the pink.

I am much interested and honoured by what you tell me of C. S. Lewis.

It seems to me that in our lifetime we have passed from the wreck of liberal humanism to the beginning of a new recognition of dogma: isn't it rather tremendous?

There were air raids at night. The factory was dark and dirty. And I remember thinking - well - I must find somebody or something because like this I cannot go on.

All in November's soaking mist We stand and prune the naked tree, While all our love and interest Seem quenched in the bluenosed misery.

One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road.

We go, in winter's biting wind, On many a short-lived winter day, With aching back but willing mind To dig and double dig the clay.