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A collection of sayings and quotes by Wilfred Owen on analysis, poems, books, poet, soldiers, enthusiasm, profession, law, conclusion, death, love and theology.

30 Notable Quotes By Wilfred Owen

Quick Facts

Famous As: Poet

Born On: March 18, 1893

Died On: November 4, 1918

Born In: Oswestry

Died At Age: 25

Wilfred Owen was a distinguished English soldier and poet. He is regarded as one of the most illustrious poets of the First World War. His writings, works, thoughts, and poetry were highly influenced by his mentor, Siegfried Sassoon, and reflected the horrors of gas warfare and trenches. Some of his noteworthy works include, ‘Spring Offensive,’ ‘Anthem for Doomed Youth,’ ‘Dulce et Decorum est,’ ‘Strange Meeting,’ ‘Insensibility,’ and ‘Futility.’ His early writings and works were influenced by the Romantic poets Keats and Shelley. We have amassed some thought-provoking sayings and quotes by Wilfred Owen, which have been excerpted from his thoughts, works, writings, poems and life. Scroll through the famous and inspiring thoughts and quotes by Wilfred Owen that is sure to give you a glimpse of his times.

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

Wilfred Owen

The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

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

Wilfred Owen

All a poet can do today is warn.

Wilfred Owen

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

Wilfred Owen

Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.

Wilfred Owen

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

Behold, A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns; Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him. But the old man would not so, but slew his son, And half the seed of Europe, one by one

Wilfred Owen

And in his eyes The cold stars lighting, very old and bleak, In different skies.

Wilfred Owen

O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?

Wilfred Owen

Children are not meant to be studied, but enjoyed. Only by studying to be pleased do we understand them.

Wilfred Owen

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

Wilfred Owen

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

Wilfred Owen

I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; and rusted every bayonet with His tears.

Wilfred Owen

For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping may something have been left, Which must die now.

Wilfred Owen

Consummation is consumption We cannot consummate our bliss and not consume All joys are cakes and vanish in eating All bliss is sugar's melting in the mouth

Wilfred Owen

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

Wilfred Owen

My arms have mutinied against me — brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My back's been stiff for hours, damned hours. Death never gives his squad a Stand-at-ease.

Wilfred Owen

As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare fade fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.

Wilfred Owen

Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter.

Wilfred Owen

You shall not hear their mirth: You shall not come to think them well content By any jest of mine. These men are worth Your tears:You are not worth their merriment.

Wilfred Owen

I have perceived much beauty In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight; Heard music in the silentness of duty; Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.

Wilfred Owen

Ambition may be defined as the willingness to receive any number of hits on the nose.

Wilfred Owen

Voices of boys were by the river-side. Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.

Wilfred Owen

What passing bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons.

Wilfred Owen

Shall they return to beating of great bells In wild train-loads? A few, a few, too few for drums and yells, May creep back, silent, to village wells, Up half-known roads.

Wilfred Owen

There breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray As men's are, dead.

Wilfred Owen

But let my death be memoried on this disc. Wear it, sweet friend. Inscribe no date nor deed. But let thy heart-beat kiss it night and day, Until the name grow vague and wear away.

Wilfred Owen

The dust that fell unnoted as a dew, Wrapped the dead city's face like mummy-cloth

Wilfred Owen

Now begin Famines of thought and feeling.

Wilfred Owen