Wilfred Owen Quotes

So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.

Was it for this the clay grew tall? -O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth’s sleep at all?

If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know.

Move him into the sun- Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown.

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.

‘Strange friend,’ I said, ‘here is no cause to mourn.’ ‘None,’ said the other, ‘save the undone years, The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours Was my life also; I went hunting wild After the wildest beauty in the world.’