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As was the custom in such cases, the pear tree was charged with murder and sentenced to be uprooted and burned.

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The award of a pure gold medal for poetry would flatter the recipient unduly: no poem ever attains such carat purity.
ROBERT GRAVES

Award Blow Bow Champion Gold Hobby Idea Reading Reward Talk Tide Wind Won Writing
Any honest housewife would sort them out,/ Having a nose for fish, an eye for apples.
ROBERT GRAVES

Apple Body Calm Eye Fish Health Housewife Nature Nose Positive Respect Self Esteem Wealth
When a dream is born in you With a sudden clamorous pain, When you know the dream is true And lovely, with no flaw nor stain, O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch You’ll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much.
ROBERT GRAVES

Born Delicate Dreams Pain True Yourself
Well, we’ve been lucky devils both And there is no need for a pledge or oath To bind our lovely friendship fast, By firmer stuff Close bound enough.
ROBERT GRAVES

Cast Devil Emotion Feeling Friendship King Launch Lovely Peculiar Satisfaction Soul Strength Style Touchwood
This seems to me a philosophical question, and therefore irrelevant, question. A poet’s destiny is to love.
ROBERT GRAVES

Beautiful Destiny Impress Impressive Noble Philosophical Poet Poetry Result Saying Simplicity Widely
There’s a cool web of language winds us in, Retreat from too much joy or too much fear: We grow sea-green at last and coldly die In brininess and volubility.
ROBERT GRAVES

Change Flashback Happy Joy Life Moment Movement Sea Summer Weather Wind
Patriotism, in the trenches, was too remote a sentiment, and at once rejected as fit only for civilians, or prisoners. A new arrival who talked patriotism would soon be told to cut it out.
ROBERT GRAVES

Civilian Cutting Fit Freedom Help Hope Inspire Patriotism Reject Story Trencher
One smile relieves a heart that grieves.
ROBERT GRAVES
The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he really is very good, in spite of all the people who say he is very good.
ROBERT GRAVES

Goodness Himself Literature Remark
The sap of Spring in the young wood a-stir Will celebrate with green the Mother, And every song-bird shout awhile for her; But we are gifted, even in November Rawest of seasons, with so huge a sense Of Her nakedly worn magnificence We forget cruelty and past betrayal, Heedless of where the next bright bolt may fall.
ROBERT GRAVES

Affection Betrayal Child Children Family Feeling God Husband Mother Motherhood Sacrifice Song Soul
To be a poet is a condition rather than a profession.
ROBERT GRAVES

Condition Poet Profession
When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell!
ROBERT GRAVES

Goodness Hell Kill Myself Thinking Tolerance
There is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting.
ROBERT GRAVES

Goodness Poet Writing
If I were a girl, I’d despair. The supply of good women far exceeds that of the men who deserve them.
ROBERT GRAVES

Accept Becoming Girl Good Honor Life Mind Perfect Perfection Respect Woman Women
New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.
ROBERT GRAVES

Beginning Hide Love Return
Hate is a fear, and fear is rot That cankers root and fruit alike, Fight cleanly then, hate not, fear not, Strike with no madness when you strike.
ROBERT GRAVES

Fear Fruit Hate Madness Strike Yourself

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