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List of Louis MacNeice Quotes
We have put together a list of some of the best Quotes that Written by Louis MacNeice
Louis MacNeice
Total Quotes 31
Why Do We Like Being Irish? Partly Because It Gives Us A Hold On The Sentimental English As Members Of A World That Never Was, Baptized With Fairy Water
Giving
Water
World
It's No Go The Picture Palace, It's No Go The Stadium, It's No Go The Country Cot With A Pot Of Pink Geraniums. It's No Go The Government Grants, It's No Go The Elections, Sit On Your Arse For Fifty Years And Hang Your Hat On A Pension.
Country
Government
Years
You Know The Worst: Your Wills Are Fickle, Your Values Blurred, Your Hearts Impure And Your Past Life A Ruined Church-- But Let Your Poison Be Your Cure.
Suicide
Heart
Past
A Fortress Against Ideas And Against The Shuddering Insidious Shock Of The Theory-vendors The Little Sardine Men Crammed In A Monster Toy Who Tilt Their Aggregate Beast Against Our Crumbling Troy.
Men
Ideas
Crumbling
And I Envy The Intransigence Of My Own Countrymen Who Shoot To Kill And Never See The Victim's Face Become Their Own Or Find His Motive Sabotage Their Motives.
Envy
Faces
Killing
In My Own Prejudice.. I Would Have Of A Poet...whose Worlds Would Not Be Too Esoteric..fond Of Talking....capable Of Pity And Laughter..appreciative Of Womem..involved In Personal Relationships...susceptible To Physical Impressions
Laughter
Talking
Prejudice
I Am Not Yet Born; O Fill Me With Strength Against Those Who Would Freeze My Humanity, Would Dragoon Me Into A Lethal Automaton Would Make Me A Cog In A Machine, A Thing With One Face, A Thing
Prayer
Humanity
Cogs
Let Them Not Make Me A Stone And Let Them Not Spill Me, Otherwise Kill Me.
Stones
Killing
Kill Me
There Seeps From Heavily Jowled Or Hawk-like Foreign Faces The Guttural Sorrow Of The Refugees.
Sorrow
Hawks
Faces
I Am Not Yet Born; Forgive Me For The Sins That In Me The World Shall Commit, My Words When They Speak Me, My Thoughts When They Think Me, My Treason Engendered By Traitors Beyound Me, My Life When They Murder By Means Of My Hands, My Death When They Live Me.
Mean
Thinking
Hands
I Was The Rector's Son, Born To The Anglican Order, Banned For Ever From The Candles Of The Irish Poor; The Chichesters Knelt In Marble At The End Of A Transept With Ruffs About Their Necks, Their Portion Sure.
Son
Order
Necks
All That I Would Like To Be Is Human, Having A Share In A Civilized, Articulate And Well-adjusted Community Where The Mind Is Given Its Due But The Body Is Not Distrusted
Community
Mind
Body
Born: September 12, 1907
Died: September 3, 1963
Occupation: Poet
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