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In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

A. E. Housman

Clay lies still, but blood’s a rover; Breath’s aware that will not keep. Up, lad: when the journey’s over then there’ll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Agree Discuss Fact Feeling One Liner Right Word Wrong
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

Emotion Poetry Reader Transmit
They put arsenic in his meat And stared aghast to watch him eat; They poured strychnine in his cup And shook to see him drink it up.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Cup Drink Eat Meat
And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Cheer Doubt Ear Emotion Fear Scare Silence Sound Stop Worse
Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Earth Heaven High Strong
He would not stay for me, and who can wonder? He would not stay for me to stand and gaze. I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder, And went with half my life about my ways.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Hands Life Myself Stand Stay Ways Wonder
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Choose Rid Words
Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour, He stood and counted them and cursed his luck; And then the clock collected in the tower Its strength, and struck.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Collection Count Curse Himself Strength
All knots that lovers tie Are tied to sever. Here shall your sweetheart lie, Untrue for ever.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Knot Lover Sever Tie Untrue
Oh, ’tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Dance Drink World
But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame’s to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I’ll be there.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Born Dangerous Death Guilty Myself Road Shame Share Soul
Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Poetry Words Writing
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Business Chance Luck Motivation One Liner Think Thinking Trouble Young

In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

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In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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