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But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

— Wilfred Owen

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More quotes by Wilfred Owen

All a poet can do today is warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.

And when I hearken to the Earth, she saith:
My fiery heart shrinks, aching. It is death.
Mine ancient scars shall not be glorified,
Nor my titanic tears, the seas, be dried.'

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod.

Dulce et Decorum Est (1917)

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Wilfred Owen (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.