Quotes from T.S. Eliot

The historical sense involves a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence

There are three conditions which often look alike Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow: Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference, ... .

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

The journey, Not the destination matters...

We are being made aware that the organization of society on the principle of private profit, as well as public destruction, is leading both to the deformation of humanity by unregulated industrialism, and to the exhaustion of natural resources, and that a good deal of our material progress is a progress for which succeeding generations may have to pay dearly.

The journey not the arrival matters.

Quick now, here, now, always- A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the spoken word, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within The world and for the world; And the light shone in the darkness and Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled About the center of the silent Word. Oh my people, what have I done unto thee. Where shall the word be found, where shall the word Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

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.

Dante and Shakespeare divide the world between them. There is no third.

The awful daring of a moment's surrender which an age of prudence can never retract. by this, and only this, we have existed.

The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason.

I have heard the key Turn in the door once and turn once only We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison

Now that lilacs are in bloom She has a bowl of lilacs in her room And twists one in her fingers while she talks. Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know What life is, you who hold it in your hands; (slowly twisting the lilac stalks) You let it flow from you, you let it flow, And youth is cruel, and has no remorse And smiles at situations which it cannot see. I smile, of course, And go on drinking tea.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap And seeing that it was a soft October night Curled once about the house, and fell asleep

Words move, music moves Only in time; but that which is only living Can only die. Words, after speech, reach Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern, Can words or music reach The stillness...

Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky

Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Till Human voices wake us, and we drown.

Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question...

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.

In order to arrive at what you are not, you must go through the way in which you are not.

That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all.