John Masefield quotes

From '41 to '51 I was my folk's contrary son; I bit my father's hand right through And broke my mother's heart in two. (John Masefield)
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.
John Masefield
In the dark womb 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.
John Masefield
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
John Masefield
Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
Once in a century a man may be ruined or made insufferable by praise. But surely once in a minute something generous dies for want of it.
John Masefield
The luck will alter and the star will rise.
John Masefield
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.
John Masefield
In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.
John Masefield
The days that make us happy make us wise. (John Masefield)
Life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.
John Masefield
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French, And some'll swallow tay and stuff fit only for a wench; But I'm for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the bench, Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
John Masefield
I, who am dead, have ways of knowing Of the crop of death that the quick are sowing. I, who was Pompey, cry it aloud From the dark of death, from the wind blowing. I, who was Pompey, once was proud, Now I lie in the sand without a shroud; I cry to Caesar out of my pain, "Caesar beware, your death is vowed."
John Masefield
And in the ghostly palm-trees the sleepy tune Of the quiet voice calling me, the long low croon Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.
John Masefield
What have I done, or tried, or said In thanks to that dear woman dead? Men triumph over women still, Men trample women's rights at will, And man's lust roves the world untamed. * * * * O grave, keep shut lest I be shamed.
John Masefield
My blood did leap, my flesh did revel, Saul Kane was tokened to the devil.
John Masefield
What is this creature, Music, save the Art, The Rhythm that the planets journey by? The living Sun-Ray entering the heart, Touching the Life with that which cannot die?
John Masefield
Will you not come home, brother? you have been long away, It's April, and blossom time, and white is the spray; And bright is the sun, brother, and warm is the rain, - Will you not come home, brother, home to us again?
John Masefield
I must 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, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
John Masefield
The moon came white and ghostly as we laid the treasure down, There was gear there'd make a beggarman as rich as Lima Town, Copper charms and silver trinkets from the chests of Spanish crews, Gold doubloons and double moidores, louis d'ors and portagues. (John Masefield)
The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.
John Masefield