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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
Drink
Hurt
Stuff
Pewter
Men
Malt
Think
Ale
Thinking
Hurts
Beer
Fellows
More quotes by A. E. Housman
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
A. E. Housman
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
A. E. Housman
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer.
A. E. Housman
And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
A. E. Housman
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
All knots that lovers tie Are tied to sever. Here shall your sweetheart lie, Untrue for ever.
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.
A. E. Housman
If a man will comprehend the richness and variety of the universe, and inspire his mind with a due measure of wonder and awe, he must contemplate the human intellect not only on its heights of genius but in its abysses of ineptitude.
A. E. Housman
Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man's deceiver Was never mine.
A. E. Housman
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
A. E. Housman
Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
A. E. Housman
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
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
The fairies break their dances And leave the printed lawn.
A. E. Housman
Some men are more interesting than their books but my book is more interesting than its man.
A. E. Housman
Ten thousand times I've done my best and all's to do again.
A. E. Housman
Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. Housman
Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again.
A. E. Housman
But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts
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
