If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable.

I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their la….

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

Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold..

And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell..

I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. Yet these elegies are to this generation in no sen….

All the poet can do today is warn. That is why true Poets must be truthful..

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

Sweet and fitting it is to die for the fatherland..

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

No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness..

All a poet can do today is warn..

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, mig….

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging fac….

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

I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's.

Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity..

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

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory. The old lie: It is sweet and fitting that you should d….

The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language...everything. Unnatural, broken, blasted; the distortion of the d….

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 w….