black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

T. S. Eliot

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

Myself Pieces Ruin
It’s not wise to violate the rules until you know how to observe them.
T. S. ELIOT

Rule See Wisdom
Do I dare Disturb the universe?
T. S. ELIOT

Dare Myself World
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
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
T. S. ELIOT

Ink Literature Poet Purpose
We don’t actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.
T. S. ELIOT

Absence Death Fade Fear Ourselves
This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.
T. S. ELIOT

Joy Moments Oneself Pain
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.
T. S. ELIOT

Beginning Deep End Philosophy Start
Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended
T. S. ELIOT

End Friendship Reality Repair
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
T. S. ELIOT

Humanity Reality
Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech
T. S. ELIOT

Body Lover Need Talk Thinking True Love
I am moved by fancies that are curled, around these images and cling, the notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Photograph Suffering
Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.
T. S. ELIOT

Mess Success
We read many books, because we cannot know enough people.
T. S. ELIOT

Book Enough People Reading
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.
T. S. ELIOT

Evening Life Morning Myself
Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
T. S. ELIOT

Dance Exception

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

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I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

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