27 Quotes by Edward Thomas

The flowers left thick at nightfall in the woodThis Eastertide call into mind the men,Now far from home, who, with their sweethearts, shouldHave gathered them and will do never again.

How nice it would be to be dead if only we could know we were dead. That is what I hate, the not being able to turn round in the grave and to say It is over.

The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence.

To-day I thinkOnly with scents, - scents dead leaves yield,And bracken, and wild carrot's seed,And the square mustard field;Odours that riseWhen the spade wounds the root of tree,Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,Rhubarb or celery;The smoke's smell, too,Flowing from where a bonfire burnsThe dead, the waste, the dangerous,And all to sweetness turns.It is enoughTo smell, to crumble the dark earth,While the robin sings over againSad songs of Autumn mirth."- A poem called DIGGING.

We feed the kids first. We use the pool water to flush the toilets, ... We are just trying to make things livable.

I have come to the borders of sleep,/ The unfathomable deep/ Forest where all must lose/ Their way.

Out of us all/ That make rhymes,/ Will you choose/ Sometimes -/ As the winds use/ A crack in a wall/ Or a drain,/ Their joy or their pain/ To whistle through -/ Choose me,/ You English words?

We in the Virgin Islands work hard, but we play hard, too.

There is not any book/ Or face of dearest look/ That I would not turn from now/ To go into the unknown/ I must enter, and leave, alone,/ I know not how.