Quote

I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.

Wilfred Owen

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Wilfred Owen
Age: 25 †
Born: 1893
Born: March 18
Died: 1918
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
Oswestry
Shropshire
Wilfred Edward Salter Owen
Owen
Children
Saws
Mud
Glory
Cracked
Laughing
Laughs
Blood
Smiled
Eyes
Cheeks
Child
Shakes
Eye
Brought
Wretches
War
Gave
Glee

More quotes by Wilfred Owen

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All the poet can do today is warn. That is why true Poets must be truthful.
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The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
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And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
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The war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.
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Dead men may envy living mites in cheese, Or good germs even. Microbes have their joys, And subdivide, and never come to death.
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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.
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Strange friend,' I said,'here is no cause to mourn.' 'None,'said the other,'save the undone years, The hopelessness.Whatever hope is yours Was my life also I went hunting wild After the wildest beauty in the world.
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The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
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I, too, saw God through mud
Wilfred Owen
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Be bullied, be outraged, by killed, but do not kill.
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Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold.
Wilfred Owen
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For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping may something have been left, Which must die now.
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Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of elderly.
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All a poet can do today is warn.
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If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable
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The centuries will burn rich loads With which we groaned, Whose warmth shall lull their dreaming lids, While songs are crooned: But they will not dream of us poor lads, Left in the ground.
Wilfred Owen
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All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.
Wilfred Owen
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Those who, like the beasts, have no such Hope, pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.
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Children are not meant to be studied, but enjoyed. Only by studying to be pleased do we understand them.
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And some cease feeling Even themselves or for themselves. Dullness best solves The tease and doubt of shelling
Wilfred Owen