|
fd7c818
|
The last act is the greatest treason. To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
8443dc7
|
So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years- Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres- Trying to use words, and every attempt Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure Because one has only learnt to get the better of words For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate, With shab..
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
1e366fe
|
For you know only a heap of broken images
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
078bb28
|
My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. 'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 'I never know what you are thinking. Think.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
d5b9e92
|
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.
|
|
influence
inspiration
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
53aa323
|
Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom Between the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the Shadow Life is very long Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is Life is For Thine is the This is the way the world ends This ..
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
92c1356
|
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
7f113a7
|
Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats 5 Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question ... 10 Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" Let us go and m..
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
ad511bf
|
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn't just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there's the name that the family use daily, Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James, Such as Victor or Jonathan, or George or Bill Bailey - All of them sensible everyday names. There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter, Some for t..
|
|
names
individuality
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
1e754ea
|
This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
5d7efcf
|
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
5314260
|
You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends, And how, how rare and strange it is, to find In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends, (For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind! How keen you are!) To find a friend who has these qualities, Who has, and gives Those qualities upon which friendship lives. How much it means that I say this to you- Without these friendships-life, what cauchemar!
|
|
poetry
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
1ef550d
|
No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead.
|
|
poetry
individual
tradition
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
b6d964e
|
If time and space, as sages say, Are things which cannot be, The sun which does not feel decay No greater is than we. So why, Love, should we ever pray To live a century?
|
|
eternity
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
228bdfe
|
Footfalls echo in the memory down the passage we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose garden. My words echo thus, in your mind
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
9daf83f
|
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
|
|
humility
|
T.S. Eliot. |
|
41875f3
|
He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
bb79e67
|
Do not let me hear Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly, Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession, Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God. The only wisdom we can hope to acquire Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
e1ca8a6
|
We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open
|
|
supernatural
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
b870692
|
Someone said, 'The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.' Precisely, and they are that which we know.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
9da64b5
|
With Cats, some say, one rule is true: Don't speak till you are spoken to. Myself, I do not hold with that -- I say, you should ad-dress a Cat. But always keep in mind that he Resents familiarity. I bow, and taking off my hat, Ad-dress him in this form: O Cat! But if he is the Cat next door, Whom I have often met before (He comes to see me in my flat) I greet him with an oopsa Cat! I think I've heard them call him James -- But we've not got..
|
|
names
cats
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
a4c21e2
|
There was a door And I could not open it. I could not touch the handle. Why could I not walk out of my prison? What is hell? Hell is oneself, Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from And nothing to Escape to. One is always alone.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
bc8d952
|
time past and time future what might have been and what has been point to one end, which is always present.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
d5ca3cc
|
What have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
d056694
|
Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it towards some overwhelming question
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
aaba299
|
The name that no human research can discover-- But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess. When you notice a cat in profound meditation, The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name: His ineffable effable Effanineffable Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
5c4bb70
|
I am glad you have a Cat, but I do not believe it is So remarkable a cat as My Cat.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
b23420e
|
Before a Cat will condescend To treat you as a trusted friend, Some little token of esteem Is needed, like a dish of cream; And you might now and then supply Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie, Some potted grouse, or salmon paste -- He's sure to have his personal taste. (I know a Cat, who makes a habit Of eating nothing else but rabbit, And when he's finished, licks his paws So's not to waste the onion sauce.) A Cat's entitled to expect These ..
|
|
names
friendship
bribery
cats
food
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
dff2759
|
The historical sense involves a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence
|
|
past
historical-perspective
history-repeating-itself
human-perception
jared-wheat
past-and-future
the-past
historical
presence
perception
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
65e20ce
|
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet--and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
f1def26
|
Only through time time is conquered
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
8ebd8ad
|
Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
82df9bc
|
There are three conditions which often look alike Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow: Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference, ... .
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
5381bb6
|
The only wisdom we can hope to acquire Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless. The houses are all gone under the sea. The dancers are all gone under the hill.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
a887bcd
|
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the spoken word, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within The world and for the world; And the light shone in the darkness and Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled About the center of the silent Word. Oh my people, what have I done unto thee.
|
|
word
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
c17b63a
|
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
308c4fd
|
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
|
|
peach
part
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
a9793fc
|
Between the desire And the spasm, Between the potency And the existence, Between the essence And the descent, Falls the Shadow. This is the way the world ends. from "The Hollow Man"
|
|
poetry
life
philosophy
despair
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
0a1a6e7
|
I think we are in rats' alley Where the dead men lost their bones.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
7354853
|
Quick now, here, now, always- A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
721341e
|
I grow old ... I grow old ... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. ..
|
|
mermaid
regret
|
T.S Eliot |
|
0ea2903
|
And if all that is meaningless, I want to be cured Of a craving for something I cannot find And of the shame of never finding it.
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
31560b3
|
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning stridi..
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |
|
31a466b
|
Words move, music moves Only in time; but that which is only living Can only die. Words, after speech, reach Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,
|
|
|
T.S. Eliot |