Wilfred Owen Quotes

As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare ...

These men are worth your tears. You are not worth their merriment.

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.

And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan.And He, picking a manner of worm, which half had hidIt...

He's lost his colour very far from here,Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

What passing bells for these who die as cattle?Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stutter...

Some say God caught them even before they fell.

This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds...

Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate.

The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language...everything. Un...

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge...

Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout"I see your lights!" But ours had long died out.

You shall not hear their mirth:You shall not come to think them well contentBy any jest of mine. The...

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.No soldier's paid...

My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

Flying is the only active profession I would ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.

All a poet can do today is warn.

Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

After all my years of playing soldiers, and then of reading History, I have almost a mania to be in ...