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 sense conciliatory. They may be to the next. All a poet can do today is warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.

I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical analysis, or a physical law

Sweet and fitting it is to die for the fatherland.

My subject is war, and the pity of war.

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 die for your country.

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

Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.