Welsh Author Quotes

Dylan Thomas

Martin Amis

Arthur Machen

Hester Thrale

Dannie Abse

Myrddin Wyllt

The photograph is married to the eye,
Grafts on its bride one-sided skins of truth....

In ways and thoughts of weakness and of wrong, Threads turn to cords, and cords to cables strong.

Green pastures are before me, which yet I have not seen;
Bright skies will soon be o'er me, where the dark clouds have been.
My hope I cannot measure, my path to life is free,
My Savior has my treasure, and He will walk with me.

Anna Laetitia Waring

The theme of Death is to Poetry what Mistaken Identity is to Drama.

Wales, Wales, sweet are thy hills and vales,
Thy speech, thy song,
To thee belong,
O may they live ever in Wales.

The picture, placed the busts between,
Adds to the thought much strength:
Wisdom and Wit are little seen,
But Folly's at full length.

Hard is the task, O Queen! that you impose,
To tear my bosom with reviving woes.

Charles Symmons

It fetches crops from the rich earth,
It's a good beast biting the ground.
It must have its knife and its board
And its food right under its thigh.
It goes unwillingly through stones,
It skins the field with leg outstretched.

There never has been a time when I did not fall in love with one or two in a single day.

Dafydd ap Gwilym

I am more and more engrossed with the single poetic theme of Life and Death, for there doesn't seem to be any question more directly relevant than this one of what survives of all the beloved.

Sweet appletree, with delicate blossom,
Growing concealed in the wood.

No companion however wise, no friend however useful, can be to me what my mother has been: her image will long pursue my fancy; her voice for ever hang in my ears: may her precepts but sink into my heart!

Ruler of heaven, Ruler of every people!
We knew not, O Christ! that it was thou.
If we had known thee,
Christ, we should have refrained from thee.

There wanted not some beams of light to guide men in the exercise of their Stocastick faculty.

To live in Wales is to be conscious at dusk of the spilled blood that went into the making of the wild sky

Sometimes children do not realize by how fragile a thread their security hangs. Perhaps it is as well they do not - most of them grow up before the thread can be broken.

There will be birds and if they write your name in the sky then you can get on the buses and if they don't you have to die on the floor.

Novelists don't age as quickly as philosophers, who often face professional senility in their late twenties.

It's not a good thing to live with hatred, especially when it is born of ignorance.

There are certain scenes, certain hills and valleys and groves of pines which demand that a story shall be written about them. I would refine; I would say that the emotions aroused by these external things reverberating in the heart are indeed the story; or all that signifies the story....We translate a hill into a tale, conceive lovers to explain a brook, turn the perfect into the imperfect.

The men went to Catraeth, swift was their host, the pale mead was their feast and it was their poison.