Quote

I don't ask myself, is the life congenial to me? But, am I fitted for, am I called to, the Ministry?

Wilfred Owen

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Wilfred Owen
Age: 25 †
Born: 1893
Born: March 18
Died: 1918
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
Oswestry
Shropshire
Wilfred Edward Salter Owen
Owen
Called
Asks
Life
Congenial
Fitted
Ministry

More quotes by Wilfred Owen

Image
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Wilfred Owen
Image
Courage was mine, and I had mystery, Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: To miss the march of this retreating world Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Wilfred Owen
Image
The English say, Yours Truly, and mean it. The Italians say, I kiss your feet, and mean, I kick your head.
Wilfred Owen
Image
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory. The old lie: It is sweet and fitting that you should die for your country.
Wilfred Owen
Image
If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable
Wilfred Owen
Image
I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical analysis, or a physical law
Wilfred Owen
Image
This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Whatever mourns when many leave these shores: Whatever shares The eternal reciprocity of tears.
Wilfred Owen
Image
All the poet can do today is warn. That is why true Poets must be truthful.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Was it for this the clay grew tall? O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?
Wilfred Owen
Image
The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
Wilfred Owen
Image
All a poet can do today is warn.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Be bullied, be outraged, by killed, but do not kill.
Wilfred Owen
Image
All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Heart, you were never hot Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot
Wilfred Owen
Image
Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
Wilfred Owen
Image
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
Image
The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy's murdered mouth.
Wilfred Owen
Image
My subject is war, and the pity of war.
Wilfred Owen
Image
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
Wilfred Owen