Quotes by A. E. Housman
A. E. Housman
Alive from: 1859-1936
Category: Poets (Contemporary)
Quotes 16 till 30 of 50.
I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.Source: ISBN: 9780198184966 The Letters of A. E. Housman (2007 edition), Oxfor
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
I tell the tale that I heard told. Mithridates, he died old.Source: A Shropshire Lad no. 62, l. 75 (1896)
I, a stranger and afraid in a world I never made.
If a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act.
In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.Source: A Shropshire Lad (1896)
Into my heart on air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those?Source: A Shropshire Lad no. 40, l. 1 (1896)
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough.Source: A Shropshire Lad (1896) No. 2, st. 1
Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.Source: A Shropshire Lad (1896) No. 12, st. 4
Malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.Source: A Shropshire Lad (1896)
Most men are rather stupid, and most of those who are not stupid are, consequently, rather vain.Source: The Application of Thought to Textual Criticism, a lecture delivered on August 4, 1921
My heart always warms to people who do not come to see me, especially Americans, to whom it seems to be more of an effort.Source: Letter to Neilson Abeel (October 4, 1935).
Nature, not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.
Now hollow fires burn out to black,
And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
And leave your friends and go.
Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,
Look not to left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
There's nothing but the night.Source: A Shropshire Lad (1896)