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It's usually the stupid people that develop long illnesses. You need more than indolence and selfishness, you need endurance to make a good patient.

W. H. Auden

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W. H. Auden
Age: 66 †
Born: 1907
Born: February 21
Died: 1973
Died: September 28
Author
Composer
Essayist
Librettist
Literary Critic
Literary Historian
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
University Teacher
Writer
Jórvík
Wystan Hugh Auden
Wystan Auden
Wystan H Auden
W. H. Wystan Hugh Auden
Needs
Endurance
Long
Selfishness
Illness
Make
Develop
Good
Patient
People
Usually
Stupid
Illnesses
Need
Indolence

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History is, strictly speaking, the study of questions the study of answers belongs to anthropology and sociology.
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If time were the wicked sheriff in a horse opera, I'd pay for riding lessons and take his gun away.
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The chances are that, in the course of his lifetime, the major poet will write more bad poems than the minor, simply because major poets write a lot.
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Of all possible subjects, travel is the most difficult for an artist, as it is the easiest for a journalist.
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Routine, in an intelligent man, is a sign of ambition.
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God bless the USA, so large, so friendly, and so rich.
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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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Slavery is so intolerable a condition that the slave can hardly escape deluding himself into thinking that he is choosing to obey his master's commands when, in fact, he is obliged to. Most slaves of habit suffer from this delusion and so do some writers, enslaved by an all too personal style.
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Encased in talent like a uniform, The rank of every poet is well known They can amaze us like a thunderstorm, Or die so young, or live for years alone.
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All the rest is silence On the other side of the wall, And the silence ripeness, And the ripeness all.
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What is a Professor of Poetry? How can poetry be professed?
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By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
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Music is the best means we have of digesting time.
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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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But once in a while the odd thing happens Once in a while the dream comes true And the whole pattern of life is altered Once in a while, the moon turns blue
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What we have not named as a symbol escapes our notice.
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Composing mortals with immortal fire.
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Now the leaves are falling fast, Nurse's flowers will not last Nurses to their graves are gone, And the prams go rolling on.
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