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Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
A. E. Housman
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A. E. Housman
Age: 77 †
Born: 1859
Born: January 1
Died: 1936
Died: January 1
Classical Philologist
Classical Scholar
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Worcs
A. E. Housman
Hurt
Stuff
Pewter
Men
Malt
Think
Ale
Thinking
Hurts
Beer
Fellows
Drink
More quotes by A. E. Housman
Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, Know you why you cannot rest? 'Tis that every mother's son Travails with a skeleton. Lie down in the bed of dust Bear the fruit that bear you must Bring the eternal seed to light, And morn is all the same as night.
A. E. Housman
June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.
A. E. Housman
When the journey's over/There'll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. Housman
Therefore, since the world has still Much good, but much less good than ill
A. E. Housman
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
A. E. Housman
His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.
A. E. Housman
To justify God's ways to man.
A. E. Housman
The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
A. E. Housman
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
A. E. Housman
The average man, if he meddles with criticism at all, is a conservative critic.
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.
A. E. Housman
Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again.
A. E. Housman
Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go.
A. E. Housman
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
Nature, not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.
A. E. Housman
The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
A. E. Housman
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
A. E. Housman
Therefore, since the world has still Much good, but much less good than ill, And while the sun and moon endure Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure, I'd face it as a wise man would, And train for ill and not for good.
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
And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.
A. E. Housman
