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!
More Quotes from Wilfred Owen:
A Poem does not grow by jerks. As trees in Spring produce a new ring of tissue, so does every poet put forth a fresh outlay of stuff at the same season.Wilfred Owen
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
Wilfred Owen
The Dead-Beat He dropped, more sullenly than wearily, Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat, And none of us could kick him to his feet Just blinked at my revolver, blearily Didn't appear to know a war was on, Or see the blasted trench at which he stared. 'I'll do 'em in,' he whined, 'if this hand's spared, I'll murder them, I will.' A low voice said, 'It's Blighty, p'raps, he sees his pluck's all gone, Dreaming of all the valiant, that aren't dead Bold uncles, smiling ministerially Maybe his brave young wife, getting her fun In some new home, improved materially. It's not these stiffs have crazed him nor the Hun.' We sent him down at last, out of the way. Unwounded - stout lad, too, before that strafe. Malingering Stretcher-bearers winked, 'Not half' Next day I heard the Doc.'s well-whiskied laugh 'That scum you sent last night soon died. Hooray'
Wilfred Owen
No alarms
Of bugles, no high flags, no clamorous haste --
Only a lift and flare of eyes that faced
The sun, like a friend with whom their love is done.
Wilfred Owen
My arms have mutinied against me brutesMy fingers fidget like ten idle brats,My back's been stiff for hours, damned hours.Death never gives his squad a Stand-at-ease.
Wilfred Owen
All a poet can do today is warn.
Wilfred Owen
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