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Although beneath this grave-mound thy white bones now are lying,
Surely, my huntress Lycas, the wild things dread thee still.
The memory of thy worth tall Pêlion keeps undying,
And the looming peak of Ossa, and Cithæron’s lonely hill.

— F. L. Lucas

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Notes from Wikiquote

Poems (1935) p. 111

More quotes by F. L. Lucas

Tiresome as intellectuals can be, even they are probably much less menacing and pernicious to the world than anti-intellectuals.

The Search for Good Sense (1958)

Among the maggots that breed in the corruption of poetry one of the commonest is the bookworm.

And how is clarity to be acquired? Mainly by taking trouble; and by writing to serve people rather than to impress them.

Style (1955)

Most of us know accurately only what we constantly relearn; memory is a dipsomaniac, needing to be perpetually refreshed.

Style (1955)

Self-determination must stop somewhere. In politics, as in physics, you come to a point where you cannot go on splitting things.

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Attribution

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