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So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

T. S. Eliot

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

End Theory World
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Night Reading
We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.
T. S. ELIOT

End Ourselves Place Start Time Travel
Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.
T. S. ELIOT

Failure Writing
An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry.
T. S. ELIOT

Election Fake Live Peace Politics
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
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
Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.
T. S. ELIOT

Evil Goodness Intention People World
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
T. S. ELIOT

Growth Poet
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
T. S. ELIOT

Fear Myself Yourself
In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
T. S. ELIOT

Decision Time
If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.
T. S. ELIOT

Acceptance Life Strength Yourself
Do I dare Disturb the universe?
T. S. ELIOT

Dare Myself World
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
Where does one go from a world of insanity? Somewhere on the other side of despair.
T. S. ELIOT

Sanity Suffering World

So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

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So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

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Popular Authors

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