Quote

I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.

John Masefield

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John Masefield
Age: 88 †
Born: 1878
Born: June 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 12
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
County of Herefordshire
John Edward Masefield
Earth
Birth
Persons
Return
Arrayed
Soul
Gives
Reincarnation
Person
Hold
Returns
Giving
Brain
Brighter
Dies
Limbs
Mother
Disguise
Another
Flesh

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Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a flame to cheat men into mire.
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When the last sea is sailed and last shallow charted, When the last field is reaped and the last harvest stored, When the last fire is out and the last guest departed Grant the last prayer that I pray, Be good to me, O Lord.
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All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate.
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All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.
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Each one could be a Jesus mild, Each one has been a little child, A little child with laughing look, A lovely white unwritten book A book that God will take, my friend, As each goes out at journey's end.
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From '41 to '51I was my folk's contrary sonI bit my father's hand right throughAnd broke my mother's heart in two.
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Man with his burning soul Has but an hour of breath To build a ship of Truth In which his soul may sail- Sail on the sea of death. For death takes toll Of beauty, courage, youth, Of all but Truth.
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State are not made, nor patched they grow Grow slow through centuries of pain, And grow correctly in the main But only grow by certain laws, Of certain bits in certain jaws.
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Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man it has become the amusement and delight of the few.
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His face was filled with broken commandments.
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The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.
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It ought to have gangsters, and aeroplanes and a lot of automatic pistols.
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Man's body is faulty, his mind untrustworthy, but his imagination has made him remarkable.
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But he has gone, A nation's memory and veneration, Among the radiant, ever venturing on, Somewhere, with morning, as such spirits will.
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Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.
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To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been and we who have seen great changes must have great hopes.
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Life's battle is a conquest for the strong The meaning shows in the defeated thing.
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Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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The Lord who gave us Earth and Heaven Takes that as thanks for all He's given. The book he lent is given back All blotted red and smutted black.
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