I am moved by fancies that are curled, around these images and cling, the notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.
T. S. ELIOTWhat we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
More T. S. Eliot Quotes
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For I have known them all already, known them all—Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
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Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech
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Men dislike being awakened from their death in life.
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.
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We had the experience but missed the meaning. And approach to the meaning restores the experience in a different form.
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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 -
There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
T. S. ELIOT -
Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.
T. S. ELIOT -
music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT -
Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended
T. S. ELIOT -
Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.
T. S. ELIOT -
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 -
I learn a great deal by merely observing you, and letting you talk as long as you please, and taking note of what you do not say.
T. S. ELIOT -
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 -
We do not pass through the same door twice Or return to the door through which we did not pass.
T. S. ELIOT