Cytaty A. E. Housman (original) (raw)
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That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
Land Nostalgia Shining
Look not in my eyes, for fear They mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me.
Eye Love Mirrors
All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.
Humans Use
The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.
House Hypocrisy Integrity
Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
Poetry Is Said Way
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
Right Words
If a man will comprehend the richness and variety of the universe, and inspire his mind with a due measure of wonder and awe, he must contemplate the human intellect not only on its heights of genius but in its abysses of ineptitude.
Inspire Men Science
Tell me not here, it needs not saying, What tune the enchantress plays In aftermaths of soft September Or under blanching mays, For she and I were long acquainted And I knew all her ways.
Long Play Tunes
Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out; but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.
Funny Humor Ignorance
A moment's thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.
Long Moments Painful
Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
Hands Humorous World
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
Ale Beer Sky
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
Life Men Thinking
To justify God's ways to man.
Drinking Men Way
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
Made Stranger World
Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure.
Chance Luck Trouble
Give me a land of boughs in leaf A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen there is grief; I love no leafless land.
Giving Grief Land
White in the moon the long road lies.
Lying Moon White
With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad.
Heart Rose Rue
Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that is the land of lost content I can see it shining plain the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
Air Blow Country
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