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All pity is self-pity.
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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Jórvík
Wystan Hugh Auden
Wystan Auden
Wystan H Auden
W. H. Wystan Hugh Auden
Pity
Self
More quotes by W. H. Auden
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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Anyone who has a child today should train him to be either a physicist or a ballet dancer. Then he'll escape.
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The most important truths are likely to be those which society at that time least wants to hear.
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To choose what is difficult all one's days, as if it were easy, that is faith
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Let us honor if we can the vertical man, though we value none but the horizontal one
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Few people take an interest in Iceland, but in those few the interest is passionate.
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Men will pay large sums to whores for telling them they are not bores.
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Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye.
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No person can be a great leader unless he takes genuine joy in the successes of those under him.
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It's better to say, 'I'm suffering,' than to say, 'This landscape is ugly.
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O plunge your hands in water, Plunge them in up to the wrist Stare, stare in the basin And wonder what you've missed.
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Great art is clear thinking about mixed feelings.
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A shilling life will give you all the facts.
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The sky is darkening like a stain Something is going to fall like rain And it won't be flowers
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The nightingales are sobbing in The orchards of our mothers, And hearts that we broke long ago Have long been breaking others Tears are round, the sea is deep: Roll them overboard and sleep.
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Criticism should be a casual conversation.
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The stars are not wanted now, put out every one Pack up the moon & dismantle the sun.
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Few can remember clearly when innocence came to a sudden end, the moment at which we ask for the first time: Am I loved?
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We must love one another or die
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Poetry is the only art people haven't learned to consume like soup.
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