John Masefield Quotes
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All ye that pass by! While we least think it he prepares his Mate. Mate, and the King's pawn played, it never ceases, Though all the earth is dust of taken pieces.
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Death opens unknown doors. It is most grand to die.
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Man's body is faulty, his mind untrustworthy, but his imagination has made him remarkable.
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I must go down to the sea again For the call of the running tide It's a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.
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His face was filled with broken commandments.
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It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.
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It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.
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It ought to have gangsters, and aeroplanes and a lot of automatic pistols.
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I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
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Life is a long headache in a noisy street.
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Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a flame to cheat men into mire.
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And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.
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So shall I fight, so shall I tread, In this long war beneath the stars; So shall a glory wreathe my head, So shall I faint and show the scars, Until this case, this clogging mould, Be smithied all to kingly gold.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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Life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.
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Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
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I have seen flowers come in stony places And kind things done by men with ugly faces, And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races, So I trust, too.
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Humans consist of body, mind and imagination. Our bodies are faulty, our minds untrustworthy, but our imagination has made us remarkable.
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All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.
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Success is the brand on the brow of the man who aimed too low.
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When the last sea is sailed and last shallow charted, When the last field is reaped and the last harvest stored, When the last fire is out and the last guest departed Grant the last prayer that I pray, Be good to me, O Lord.
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The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.
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Lord, give to me who are old and rougher The things that little children suffer, And let keep bright and undefiled The young years of the little child.
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The luck will alter and the star will rise.
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The social states of human kinds Are made by multitudes of minds, And after multitudes of years A little human growth appears Worth having, even to the soul Who sees most plain it's not the whole.
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Heaven to me's a fair blue stretch of sky, Earth's jest a dusty road.
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The days that make us happy make us wise
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I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.
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Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
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In the dark room where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth. I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.
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