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
As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the...
As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the...
As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the...
As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the...
About This Quote

Those who are killed in battle are like bronze that lies in the dark damp soil. After the battle, the metal is refined and looks more beautiful than it did before. So too, when a person dies, he or she is refined and they look far more beautiful than before. This quote comes from the Aeneid by Virgil.

It is an epic poem about the war between Aeneas and Turnus for the hand of his father's daughter, Lavinia.  The main characters are Aeneas, king of Troy; Lavinia, his captive; Turnus, her betrothed; Aeneas' son Ascanius; and Turnus' son Iulus. The story takes place in Italy in real time, a few decades before the Trojan War, during a golden age of Rome.

Source: The Poems Of Wilfred Owen

Some Similar Quotes
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  2. I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts. - Leo Tolstoy

  3. What Is Love? I have met in the streets a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul - Victor Hugo

  4. Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth,... - Unknown

  5. Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation. - Jalaluddin Rumi

More Quotes By Wilfred Owen
  1. These men are worth your tears. You are not worth their merriment.

  2. Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All...

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

  4. 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.

  5. All a poet can do today is warn.

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