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There are only three things in the world, one is to read poetry, another is to write poetry, and the best of all is to live poetry.

Rupert Brooke

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Rupert Brooke
Age: 28 †
Born: 1887
Born: January 1
Died: 1915
Died: January 1
Poet
Rugby
Warwickshire
Rupert Chawner Brooke
Rupert Chaucer Brooke
Three
Another
Best
Live
Writing
Things
Poetry
World
Read
Write

More quotes by Rupert Brooke

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In your arms was still delight, Quiet as a street at night And thoughts of you, I do remember, Were green leaves in a darkened chamber, Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.
Rupert Brooke
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Spend in pure converse our eternal day Think each in each, immediately wise Learn all we lacked before hear, know, and say What this tumultuous body now denies And feel, who have laid our groping hands away And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.
Rupert Brooke
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All the little emptiness of love!
Rupert Brooke
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Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping.
Rupert Brooke
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
Rupert Brooke
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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
Rupert Brooke
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
Rupert Brooke
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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.
Rupert Brooke
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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
Rupert Brooke
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Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate.
Rupert Brooke
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There's little comfort in the wise
Rupert Brooke
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Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near-- Not here the appointed End, not here! But somewhere, beyond Space and Time, Is wetter water, slimier slime!
Rupert Brooke
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If I should die, think only this of me: that there's some corner of a foreign field that is for ever England.
Rupert Brooke
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A book may be compared to your neighbor: if it be good, it cannot last too long if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.
Rupert Brooke
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These laid the world away poured out the red Sweet wine of youth gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That men call age and those who would have been, Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
Rupert Brooke
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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
Rupert Brooke
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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
Rupert Brooke
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Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow
Rupert Brooke
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
Rupert Brooke
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A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.
Rupert Brooke