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This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.

T. S. Eliot

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
music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT

Deep Last Music
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
T. S. ELIOT

Fantasy Myself Sing Thinking
There’s no vocabulary For love within a family, love that’s lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent.
T. S. ELIOT

Deep Family Light Love See Silence Talk
If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
T. S. ELIOT

Knowledge Yourself
Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself.
T. S. ELIOT

Beyond Escape Experience
Television is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.
T. S. ELIOT

Joke Listen Lonely People
Humor is also a way of saying something serious.
T. S. ELIOT

Humor Serious
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
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
T. S. ELIOT

Business Ourselves
I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Sea Silence
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
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
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
T. S. ELIOT

Ink Literature Poet Purpose
Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
T. S. ELIOT

Dance Exception
It’s not wise to violate the rules until you know how to observe them.
T. S. ELIOT

Rule See Wisdom

This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.

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This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.

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