Author: Edward Thomas

Cited by

• Pat Barker (1)
  • IN: The Ghost Road (1995) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Now all roads lead to France / And heavy is the tread / Of the living: but the dead / Returning lightly dance
    FROM: Roads, (1916), Poem, UK
• John Connolly (1)
  • IN: The Killing Kind (2001) Fiction, Irish
    EPIGRAPH: And heavy is the tread Of the living; but the dead Returning lightly dance
    FROM: Roads, (1916), Poem, UK
• Louisa Young (1)
  • IN: The Heroes' Welcome (2014) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: I knew that I was more than the something which had been looking out all that day upon the visible earth adn thinking and speaking and tasting friendship. Somewhere -- close at hand in that rosy thicket or far off beyond the ribs of sunset -- I was gathered up with an immortal company, where I and poet and lover and flower and cloud and star were equals, as all the little leaves were equal ruffling before the gusts, or sleeping and carved out of the silentness. And in that company I learned that I am something which no fortune can touch, whether I be soon to die or long years away. Things will happen which will trample and pierce, but I shall go on, something that is here and there like the wind, something unconquerable, something not to be separated from the dark earth and the light sky, a strong citizen of infinity and eternity. The confidence and ease had become a deep joy; I knew that I could not do without the Infinite; nor the Infinite without me.
    FROM: "The Stile" Light and Twilight, (1911), Book, UK
• Alastair Reynolds (1)
  • IN: Poseidon's Wake (2015) Novel, Science Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, Or winding, soon or late; They cannot choose.
    FROM: "Lights Out", (1917), Poem, UK
• Judith Kinghorn (1)
  • IN: The Echo Twilight (2017) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Things will happen which will trample and pierce, but I shall go on, something that is here and there like the wind, something unconquerable, something not to be separated from the dark earth and the light sky, a strong citizen of infinity and eternity.
    FROM: The Stile, (1911), Short Story, UK