“Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door.” — Walter de la Mare Door 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
Three jolly huntsmen, In coats of red, Rode their horses Up to bed. — Walter de La Mare Bed 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
“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
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
God has mercifully ordered that the human brain works slowly; first the blow, hours afterwards the bruise. — Walter de La Mare Blow Copy Share Image
A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws and silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds… — Walter de La Mare Claws 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
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
“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
Now that cleverness was the fashion most people were clever - even perfect fools; and cleverness after all was often only a… — Walter de La Mare Body 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
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
“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
Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with… — Walter de La Mare Break Copy Share Image
Without imagination of the one kind or of the other, mortal existence is indeed a dreary and prosaic business... Illumined by the… — Walter de La Mare Adventure 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 Deep 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
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
Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word," he said. Never the least stir made the listeners,… — Walter de La Mare Awake 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
“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
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
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
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
What is the world, O soldiers? It is I, I, this incessant snow, This northern sky. — Walter de La Mare Flower Copy Share Image
Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day. — Walter de La Mare Dainty Copy Share Image
And some win peace who spend The skill of words to sweeten despair Of finding consolation where Life has but one dark… — Walter de La Mare Consolation Copy Share Image
As soon as they're out of your sight, you are out of their mind. — Walter de La Mare Cat Copy Share Image
Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon. — Walter de La Mare Moon Copy Share Image
When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes. — Walter de La Mare Darkness Copy Share Image
