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A moment's thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.
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
Process
Moments
Thought
Long
Would
Time
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Painful
Moment
More quotes by A. E. Housman
The rainy Pleiads wester Orion plunges prone, And midnight strikes and hastens, And I lie down alone.
A. E. Housman
Great literature should do some good to the reader: must quicken his perception though dull, and sharpen his discrimination though blunt, and mellow the rawness of his personal opinions.
A. E. Housman
The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me.
A. E. Housman
Tomorrow, more's the pity, Away we both must hie, To air the ditty and to earth I.
A. E. Housman
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
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
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
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
Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
A. E. Housman
Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
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
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
Mithridates, he died old. Housman's passage is based on the belief of the ancients that Mithridates the Great [c. 135-63 B.C.] had so saturated his body with poisons that none could injure him. When captured by the Romans he tried in vain to poison himself, then ordered a Gallic mercenary to kill him.
A. E. Housman
White in the moon the long road lies.
A. E. Housman
I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.
A. E. Housman
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
A. E. Housman
Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder So leave alone the grass That I am under.
A. E. Housman
The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
A. E. Housman
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
Therefore, since the world has still Much good, but much less good than ill
A. E. Housman