A Quote by Wilfred Owen

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

Wilfred Owen

Quote Topics

Clay Grew Tall

Quote Author

Wilfred Owen
English - Soldier
March 18, 1893 - November 4, 1918

Was it for this the clay grew tall? O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?

Wilfred Owen

This clay, so strong of heart, of sense so fine,Surely such clay is more than half divine--'Tis only fools speak evil of the clay,The very stars are made of clay like mine.

Omar Khayyam

People ask me what it's like to be tall, and I don't know what to say because I don't know any different. I grew up in a very tall house, so I wasn't an anomaly there.

Elizabeth Debicki

I had a fear of being too tall because my dad is very tall, and both my sisters are very tall. And they're drop-dead gorgeous, but I just didn't know if I, as Storm, wanted to be 6 feet tall, 'cause I feel like that's pretty tall.

Storm Reid

I think it's fun to play on hard courts, you know. I think it's a surface that also can suit my game even though this year has been mainly clay, clay, clay all the year.

Casper Ruud

I danced for 10 years. I was on a competitive hip-hop team, but then I, like, grew seven inches in one year - not really, but I grew tall and really lanky, and I lost all my coordination.

Kelsea Ballerini

You ask what I have found and far and wide I go, Nothing but Cromwell's house and Cromwell's murderous crew, The lovers and the dancers are beaten into the clay, And the tall men and the swordsmen and the horsemen where are they?

William Butler Yeats

Futility Move him into the sun - Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds, - Woke, once, the clays of a cold star. Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides, Full-nerved -still warm -too hard to stir? Was it for this the clay grew tall? -O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?

Wilfred Owen

But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike.