I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds off into a poetical generality and vagueness.
More Quotes from 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
Sonnet To a Child Sweet is your antique body, not yet young Beauty withheld from youth that looks for youth Fair only for your father. Dear among Masters in art. To all men else uncouth Save me, who know your smile comes very old, Learnt of the happy dead that laughed with gods For earlier suns than ours have lent you gold Sly fauns and trees have given you jigs and nods. But soon your heart, hot-beating like a bird's, Shall slow down. Youth shall lop your hair And you must learn wry meanings in our words. Your smile shall dull, because too keen aware And when for hopes your hand shall be uncurled, Your eyes shall close, being open to the world.
Wilfred Owen
For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
For love of God seems dying.
Wilfred Owen
My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
Wilfred Owen
All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.
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
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Based on Topics: Science QuotesBased on Keywords: generality, poetical, rounds, vagueness
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Silence is the safest course for any man to adopt who distrust himself.
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