Quotes by A. E. Housman

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The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.

In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
We for a certainty are not the first have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed whatever brute and blackguard made the world.
Malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
Here dead lie we because we did not choose to live and shame the land from which we sprung. Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose; but young men think it is, and we were young.
Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink / For fellows whom it hurts to think.
The stars have not dealt me the worst they could do/My pleasures are plenty, my troubles are two/ But oh my two troubles they reave me of rest/ The brains in my head the the heart in my breast.
Tis late to hearken, late to smile/But better late than never/ I shall have lived a little while/Before I die forever.
. . . there's the Lenten lily That has not long to stay And dies on Easter Day.
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide.

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