For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping may something have been left, Which must die now. - Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening

This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them.
Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War.
Above all I am not concerned with Poetry.
My subject is War, and the pity of War.
The Poetry is in the pity.
Yet these elegies are to this generation in no sense consolatory. They may be to the next. All a poet can do today is to warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.

Children are not meant to be studied, but enjoyed. Only by studying to be pleased do we understand them.