Quote

Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold.

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
Cold
Happy
War
Fear
Running
Men
Insensibility
Veins
Killed

More quotes by Wilfred Owen

Image
All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.
Wilfred Owen
Image
These men are worth your tears. You are not worth their merriment.
Wilfred Owen
Image
And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan. And He, picking a manner of worm, which half had hid Its bruises in the earth, but crawled no further, Showed me its feet, the feet of many men, And the fresh-severed head of it, my head.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Children are not meant to be studied, but enjoyed. Only by studying to be pleased do we understand them.
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
All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
Wilfred Owen
Image
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Wilfred Owen
Image
No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.
Wilfred Owen
Image
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
Wilfred Owen
Image
I don't ask myself, is the life congenial to me? But, am I fitted for, am I called to, the Ministry?
Wilfred Owen
Image
Flying is the only active profession I could ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.
Wilfred Owen
Image
I thought of all that worked dark pits Of war, and died Digging the rock where Death reputes Peace lies indeed.
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
I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical analysis, or a physical law
Wilfred Owen
Image
All a poet can do today is warn.
Wilfred Owen
Image
My soul's a little grief, grappling your chest, To climb your throat on sobs easily chased On other sighs and wiped by fresher winds.
Wilfred Owen
Image
The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language...everything. Unnatural, broken, blasted the distortion of the dead, whose unburiable bodies sit outside the dug outs all day, all night, the most execrable sights on earth. In poetry we call them the most glorious.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of elderly.
Wilfred Owen
Image
Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.
Wilfred Owen