Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it
T. S. ELIOTThe last act is the greatest treason. To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
More T. S. Eliot Quotes
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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.
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Humor is also a way of saying something serious.
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music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts.
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What 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.
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To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man’s life.
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I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
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In my end is my beginning.
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Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
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It’s not wise to violate the rules until you know how to observe them.
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Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
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Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.
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Time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future And time future contained in time past.
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I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
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No one can become really educated without having pursued some study in which he took no interest- for it is a part of education to learn to interest ourselves in subjects for which we have no aptitude.
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Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea.
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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.
T. S. ELIOT -
There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.
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This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.
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The last act is the greatest treason. To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
T. S. ELIOT -
There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
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For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
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Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter.
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Do I dare Disturb the universe?
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We read many books, because we cannot know enough people.
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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.
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Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended
T. S. ELIOT