“And indeed there will be time for the yellow smoke that slides along the street rubbing its back upon the window-panes; there will be time , there will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; there will be time to murder and create, and time for all the works and days of hands that lift and drop a question on your plate; 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 toast and tea.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“Fading, fading: strength beyond hope and despair climbing the third stair. Lord, I am not worthy Lord, I am not worthy but speak the word only.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“O perpetual revolution of configured stars, o perpetual recurrence of determined seasons, o world of spring and autumn, birth and dying! The endless cycle of idea and action, endless invention, endless experiment, brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; knowledge of speech, but not of silence; knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word. All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance, all our ignorance brings us nearer to death, but nearness to death no nearer to God. 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? The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries bring us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now
History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors
And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions,
Guides us by vanities. Think now
She gives when our attention is distracted
And what she gives, gives with such supple confusions
That the giving famishes the craving. Gives too late
What’s not believed in, or if still believed,
In memory only, reconsidered passion. Gives too soon
Into weak hands, what’s thought can be dispensed with
Till the refusal propagates a fear. Think
Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices
Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues
Are forced upon us by our impudent crimes.
These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“Think neither fear nor courage saves us.
Unnatural vices are fathered by our heroism.
Virtues are forced upon us by our impudent crimes.
These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“This form, this face, this life living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken, the awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“I that was near your heart was removed therefrom”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices in the lost lilac and the lost sea voices and the weak spirit quickens to rebel for the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell quickens to recover.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“We see the light but see not whence it comes. O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“There is no water, so things are bad. If there were water, it would be better. But there is no water.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
“Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.”
― T.S. Eliot, quote from The Waste Land and Other Poems
T.S. Eliot
Born place: in St. Louis, Missouri, The United States
Born date September 26, 1888
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“I’m thinking of starting my own Fat Club. Talking to Sue it sounds like money for old rope. £15 membership and fleece them for another fiver every time they come along to get weighed”
― Karl Wiggins, quote from Dogshit Saved My Life
“I moved around the couch and started to dig through his piles in search of the device. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at a table?” Without looking at me his lips curved slightly as he said, “I wanted to be near you.” His answer surprised me. The other men in the room weren’t paying attention to us. He hadn’t said it for them. He’d meant it.”
― Laurelin Paige, quote from Fixed on You
“It was really amazing the number of hard hits from which a mind could recover.”
― Stephen King, quote from Full Dark, No Stars
“I did not want to voice a word that would lift the cover and reveal that hideous emotion I always felt for her, the underside of love.”
― Philip Roth, quote from Goodbye, Columbus and Five Short Stories
“But as yet, the neighbourhood was shy to own the Railroad. One or two bold speculators had projected streets; and one had built a little, but had stopped among the mud and ashes to consider farther of it. A bran-new Tavern, redolent of fresh mortar and size, and fronting nothing at all, had taken for its sign The Railway Arms; but that might be rash enterprise—and then it hoped to sell drink to the workmen. So, the Excavators’ House of Call had sprung up from a beer shop; and the old-established Ham and Beef Shop had become the Railway Eating House, with a roast leg of pork daily, through interested motives of a similar immediate and popular description. Lodging-house keepers were favourable in like manner; and for the like reasons were not to be trusted. The general belief was very slow. There were frowzy fields, and cow-houses, and dunghills, and dustheaps, and ditches, and gardens, and summer-houses, and carpet-beating grounds, at the very door of the Railway. Little tumuli of oyster shells in the oyster season, and of lobster shells in the lobster season, and of broken crockery and faded cabbage leaves in all seasons, encroached upon its high places. Posts, and rails, and old cautions to trespassers, and backs of mean houses, and patches of wretched vegetation stared it out of countenance. Nothing was the better for it, or thought of being so. If the miserable waste ground lying near it could have laughed, it would have laughed it to scorn, like many of the miserable neighbours.”
― Charles Dickens, quote from Dombey and Son
Throne of Glass
The Green Mile
White Oleander
Catching Fire
Beautiful Disaster
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