1
These men are worth your tears. You are not worth their merriment.Wilfred Owen
2
Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.Wilfred Owen
3
Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate.Wilfred Owen
4
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
5
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
6
Some say God caught them even before they fell.Wilfred Owen
7
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