“In these days of faith-cures, and hypnotism, and telepathy, and subliminalities – why, the simple old world grows very confusing. But rarely,… — Walter de la Mare Confusion Copy Share Image
“When indeed you positively press your face, so to speak, against the crystalline window of your eyes, your mind is apt to… — Walter de la Mare Mind Copy Share Image
What is the world, O soldiers? It is I, I, this incessant snow, This northern sky. — Walter de La Mare Incessant Copy Share Image
“Away There is no sorrow Time heals never; No loss, betrayal, Beyond repair. Balm for the soul, then, Though grave shall sever… — Walter de la Mare Death Copy Share Image
“Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door.” — Walter de la Mare Knocking Copy Share Image
As long as I live I shall always be My Self - and no other, Just me. — Walter de La Mare Identity Copy Share Image
“Lawford had soundlessly stolen a pace or two nearer, and by stopping forward he could, each in turn, scrutinize the little intent… — Walter de la Mare Business Copy Share Image
For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there; That… — Walter de La Mare Beauty Copy Share Image
We wake and whisper awhile, But, the day gone by, Silence and sleep like fields Of amaranth lie. — Walter de La Mare Days gone by Copy Share Image
“A poor old Widow in her weeds Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds; Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down… — Walter de la Mare Bees Copy Share Image
Once a man strays out of the common herd, he's more likely to meet wolves in the thickets than angels. — Walter de La Mare Angel Copy Share Image
“It is very seldom that one encounters what would appear to be sheer unadulterated evil in a human face; an evil, I… — Walter de la Mare Business Copy Share Image
It was a pity thoughts always ran the easiest way, like water in old ditches. — Walter de La Mare Pity Copy Share Image
All but blind In his chambered hole Gropes for worms The four-clawed Mole. — Walter de La Mare Blind Copy Share Image
“Yes, after all, this by now was his customary loneliness: there was little else he desired for the present than the hospitality… — Walter de la Mare Dark Copy Share Image
Poor tired Tim! It's sad for him He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do. — Walter de La Mare Lag Copy Share Image
“Marvellous happy it was to be Alone, and yet not solitary. O out of terror and dark, to come In sight of… — Walter de la Mare Happiness Copy Share Image
The only catalogue of this world's goods that really counts is that which we keep in the silence of the mind. — Walter de La Mare Catalogues Copy Share Image
Lear, Macbeth. Mercutio – they live on their own as it were. The newspapers are full of them, if we were only… — Walter de La Mare Behinds Copy Share Image
“That's why I've just gone on … collecting this particular kind of stuff – what you might call riff-raff. There's not a… — Walter de la Mare Book Copy Share Image
The sandy cat by the Farmer's chair Mews at his knee for dainty fare; Old Rover in his moss-greened house Mumbles a… — Walter de La Mare Bark Copy Share Image
“The viewless air seemed to be flocking with hidden listeners. The very clearness and the crystal silence were their ambush. He alone… — Walter de la Mare Atmosphere Copy Share Image
Oh, pity the poor glutton Whose troubles all begin In struggling on and on to turn What's out into what's in. — Walter de La Mare Pity Copy Share Image
