Edwin Muir

“The curse of Scottish literature is the lack of a whole language, which finally means the lack of a whole mind.”

“There is a road that turning alwaysAnd lies where it has lain.”

“The world's great day is growing late,So long with crops of love and hate.”

“Long time he lay upon the sunny hill,To his father's house below securely bound.”

“They do not live in the world,Were never in any place.”

“I have observed in foolish aweBy everyone on everyone.”