black
grey
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white

Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.

T. S. Eliot

In my end is my beginning.
T. S. ELIOT

Beginning End Myself
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
T. S. ELIOT

Business Ourselves
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
T. S. ELIOT

Death Desire Flower Memories Rain Season Spring
If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
T. S. ELIOT

Knowledge Yourself
Men dislike being awakened from their death in life.
T. S. ELIOT

Death Deep Life Man
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Night Reading
There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet
T. S. ELIOT

People Preparation Time
We do not pass through the same door twice Or return to the door through which we did not pass.
T. S. ELIOT

Philosophy Place Travel
Television is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.
T. S. ELIOT

Joke Listen Lonely People
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
T. S. ELIOT

Ink Literature Poet Purpose
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
Distracted from distraction by distraction
T. S. ELIOT

Distraction One Liner Philosophy
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
T. S. ELIOT

Myself Pieces Ruin
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
Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
T. S. ELIOT

Knowledge Life Live Lost Wisdom
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
T. S. ELIOT

Fantasy Myself Sing Thinking

Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.

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Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.

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