The curse of Scottish literature is the lack of a whole language, which finally means the lack of a whole mind. — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
“The first thought of writing this book came to me two years ago after I had driven through the mining district of Lanarkshire. The journey took me through Hamilton, Airdrie and Motherwell. It was a warm, overcast summer day; groups… — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
“ Light and praise, Love and atonement, harmony and peace. Touch me, assail me, break and make my heart.” — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
There is a road that turning always Cuts off the country of Again. Archers stand there on every side And as it runstime's deer… — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
“Since I emerged that day from the labyrinth, Dazed with the tall and echoing passages, The swift recoils, so many I almost feared I’d… — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
The life of every man is an endlessly repeated performance of the life of man. — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
Sometimes we think of the nations lying asleep, Curled blindly in impenetrable sorrow, And then the thought confounds us with its strangeness. — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
I have observed in foolish awe The dateless mid-days of the law And seen indifferent justice done By everyone on everyone. — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
The ancestral deed is thought and done, And in a million Edens fall A million Adams drowned in darkness, For small is great and… — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
Dostoyevsky wrote of the unconscious as if it were conscious; that is in reality the reason why his characters seem 'pathological', while they are… — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
Kindness and courage can repair time's faults, And serving him breeds patience and courtesy In us, light sojourners and passing subjects. — Edwin Muir Copy Share Image
