black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

Men dislike being awakened from their death in life.
T. S. ELIOT

Death Deep Life Man
Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter.
T. S. ELIOT

Deep Love
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
T. S. ELIOT

Growth Poet
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
T. S. ELIOT

Ink Literature Poet Purpose
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
T. S. ELIOT

Life Myself
To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man’s life.
T. S. ELIOT

Beautiful Courage Enough Life Man
Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.
T. S. ELIOT

Evil Goodness Intention People World
Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
T. S. ELIOT

Dance Exception
I can connect Nothing with nothing
T. S. ELIOT

Connection Myself One Liner
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
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
Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it
T. S. ELIOT

Acceptance Past
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
You are the music while the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT

Last Music Yourself
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
T. S. ELIOT

Inspirational Possible Risk
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

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

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

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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