This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.
T. S. ELIOTI have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
More T. S. Eliot Quotes
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There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.
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Books. Cats. Life is good.
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Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter.
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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.
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Where does one go from a world of insanity? Somewhere on the other side of despair.
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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 -
We read many books, because we cannot know enough people.
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For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
T. S. ELIOT -
music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts.
T. S. ELIOT -
Whatever you think, be sure it is what you think; whatever you want, be sure that is what you want; whatever you feel, be sure that is what you feel.
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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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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 -
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 -
Teach us to care and not to care
T. S. ELIOT -
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
T. S. ELIOT -
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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For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.
T. S. ELIOT -
The visible reminder of Invisible Light.
T. S. ELIOT -
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 -
Anxiety is the handmaiden of creativity
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Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
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People to whom nothing has ever happened cannot understand the unimportance of events.
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Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it
T. S. ELIOT -
This love is silent.
T. S. ELIOT -
Men dislike being awakened from their death in life.
T. S. ELIOT -
Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech
T. S. ELIOT