The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
All a poet can do today is warn.
The war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.
All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
The English say, Yours Truly, and mean it. The Italians say, I kiss your feet, and mean, I kick your head.