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Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

T. S. Eliot

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
Teach us to care and not to care
T. S. ELIOT

Care One Liner Teaching
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
T. S. ELIOT

Life Myself
There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
T. S. ELIOT

Fear Feeling Grief Music
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.
T. S. ELIOT

Decision Time Vision Yourself
You are the music while the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT

Last Music Yourself
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Pieces Ruin
This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.
T. S. ELIOT

Joy Moments Oneself Pain
Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.
T. S. ELIOT

Failure Writing
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
People to whom nothing has ever happened cannot understand the unimportance of events.
T. S. ELIOT

Importance People Understand
What is hell? Hell is oneself. Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from And nothing to escape to. One is always alone.
T. S. ELIOT

Alone Escape Hell Oneself Philosophy Spiritual
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Night Reading
Sometimes things become possible if we want them bad enough.
T. S. ELIOT

Bad Enough Possible
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us and we drown.
T. S. ELIOT

Deep Dream Fantasy Girl Human Sea Voice Wake Up
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

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

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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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