black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

T. S. Eliot

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.
T. S. ELIOT

Garden Memories Rose
It will do you no harm to find yourself ridiculous. Resign yourself to be the fool you are. We must always take risks. That is our destiny.
T. S. ELIOT

Destiny Fools Harm Ourselves Risk Yourself
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.
T. S. ELIOT

Fear Greatness Moments Myself See
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
T. S. ELIOT

Deep Knowledge Lost Wisdom
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
T. S. ELIOT

Ink Literature Poet Purpose
You are the music while the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT

Last Music Yourself
We must not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time.
T. S. ELIOT

Exploration Place Time Travel
Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it
T. S. ELIOT

Acceptance Past
Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended
T. S. ELIOT

End Friendship Reality Repair
There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.
T. S. ELIOT

Death Life Oneself Remember Yourself
We don’t actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.
T. S. ELIOT

Absence Death Fade Fear Ourselves
Where does one go from a world of insanity? Somewhere on the other side of despair.
T. S. ELIOT

Sanity Suffering World
Do I dare Disturb the universe?
T. S. ELIOT

Dare Myself World
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

Deep Dream Fantasy Girl Human Sea Voice Wake Up
I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Sea Silence
Humor is also a way of saying something serious.
T. S. ELIOT

Humor Serious

The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

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The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

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