And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
A. E. HOUSMANStars, I have seen them fall, But when they drop and die, No star is lost at all From all the star-sown sky. The toil of all that be Helps not the primal fault; It rains into the sea And still the sea is salt.
More A. E. Housman Quotes
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All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.
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Experience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
There, like the wind through woods in riot, Through him the gale of life blew high; The tree of man was never quiet: Then ’twas the Roman, now ’tis I.
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Nature, not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.
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You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over; You hearken to the lover’s say, And happy is the lover. ‘Tis late to hearken, late to smile, But better late than never: I shall have lived a little while Before I die for ever.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.
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I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
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Oh, ’tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
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Who made the world I cannot tell; ‘Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
I think that to transfuse emotion – not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader’s sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer – is the peculiar function of poetry.
A. E. HOUSMAN -
And how am I to face the odds Of man’s bedevilment and God’s? I, a stranger and afraid In a world I never made.
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I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
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With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad.
A. E. HOUSMAN