-
I am moved by fancies that are curledAround these images, and cling:The notion of some infinitely gentleInfinitely suffering thing.
T. S. Eliot -
If you will not have God (and He is a jealous God), you should pay your respects to Hitler or Stalin.
T. S. Eliot
-
They constantly try to escape From the darkness outside and within By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good. But the man that is shall shadow The man that pretends to be.
T. S. Eliot -
Let me show you the work of the humble. Listen.
T. S. Eliot -
Think not forever of yourselves, O Chiefs, nor of your own generation. Think of continuing generations of our families, think of our grandchildren and of those yet unborn, whose faces are coming from beneath the ground.
T. S. Eliot -
The tendency of liberals is to create bodies of men and women-of all classes-detached from tradition, alienated from religion, and susceptible to mass suggestion-mob rule. And a mob will be no less a mob if it is well fed, well clothed, well housed, and well disciplined.
T. S. Eliot -
Eyes I dare not meet in dreamsIn death's dream kingdom´These do not appear:There, the eyes areSunlight on a broken columnThere, is a tree swingingAnd voices areIn the wind's singingMore distant and more solemnThan a fading star.
T. S. Eliot -
Gradually we come to admit that Shakespeare understands a greater extent and variety of human life than Dante; but that Dante understands deeper degrees of degradation and higher degrees of exaltation.
T. S. Eliot
-
Because I know that time is always time And place is always and only place And what is actual is actual only for one time And only for one place I rejoice that things are as they are and I renounce the blessèd face
T. S. Eliot -
The Eagle soars in the summit of Heaven, The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit.
T. S. Eliot -
In the room the women come and goTalking of Michelangelo.
T. S. Eliot -
We are the hollow menWe are the stuffed menLeaning togetherHeadpiece filled with straw.
T. S. Eliot -
It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.
T. S. Eliot -
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly But merely vans to beat the air The air which is now thoroughly small and dry Smaller and dryer than the will Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
T. S. Eliot
-
The river itself has no beginning or end. In its beginning, it is not yet the river; in the end it is no longer the river. What we call the headwaters is only a selection from among the innumerable sources which flow together to compose it. At what point in its course does the Mississippi become what the Mississippi means?
T. S. Eliot -
Let these words answer For what is done, not to be done again May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
T. S. Eliot -
The more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates.
T. S. Eliot -
Stand on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.
T. S. Eliot -
An editor should tell the author his writing is better than it is. Not a lot better, a little better.
T. S. Eliot -
The world turns and the world changes, But one thing does not change. In all of my years, one thing does not change, However you disguise it, this thing does not change: The perpetual struggle of Good and Evil.
T. S. Eliot
-
A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time, or alien in language, or diverse in interest.
T. S. Eliot -
There are flood and drought over the eyes and in the mouth, dead water and dead sand contending for the upper hand. The parched eviscerate soil gapes at the vanity of toil, laughs without mirth. This is the death of the earth.
T. S. Eliot -
And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? -
T. S. Eliot -
It's harder to confess the sin that no one believes in Than the crime that everyone can appreciate. For the crime is in relation to the law And the sin is in relation to the sinner.
T. S. Eliot