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Literary confessors are contemptible, like beggars who exhibit their sores for money, but not so contemptible as the public that buys their books.
W. H. Auden
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W. H. Auden
Age: 66 †
Born: 1907
Born: February 21
Died: 1973
Died: September 28
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Wystan Hugh Auden
Wystan Auden
Wystan H Auden
W. H. Wystan Hugh Auden
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More quotes by W. H. Auden
The parlour cars and Pullmans are packed also with scented assassins, salad-eaters who murder on milk.
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In the deserts of the heart Let the healing fountain start.
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The law cannot forgive, for the law has not been wronged, only broken only persons can be wronged. The law can pardon, but it can only pardon what it has the power to punish.
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There is no love There are only the various envies, all of them sad.
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Politics cannot be a science, because in politics theory and practice cannot be separated, and the sciences depend upon their separation.
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The habit-forming pain, Mismanagement and grief: We must suffer them all again.
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Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.
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About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters.
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If it form the one landscape that we the inconstant ones Are consistently homesick for, this is chiefly Because it dissolves in water.
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Every American poet feels that the whole responsibility for contemporary poetry has fallen upon his shoulders, that he is a literary aristocracy of one.
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There are good books which are only for adults. There are no good books which are only for children.
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You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart.
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We who must die demand a miracle. How could the Eternal do a temporal act, The Infinite become a finite fact? Nothing can save us that is possible: We who must die demand a miracle.
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Men will pay large sums to whores for telling them they are not bores.
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Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
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No human being is innocent, but there is a class of innocent human actions called Games.
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Hemingway is terribly limited. His technique is good for short stories, for people who meet once in a bar very late at night, but do not enter into relations. But not for the novel.
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Those who will not reason, perish in the act. Those who will not act, perish for that reason.
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See without looking, hear without listening, breathe without asking.
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A person incapable of imaging another world than given to him by his senses would be subhuman, and a person who identifies his imaginary world with the world of sensory fact has become insane.
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