Quotes from T.S. Eliot

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 life and drop a question on your plate;

The morning comes to consciousness

Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind Cannot bear very much reality.

Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

Desire itself is movement Not in itself desirable; Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement, Timeless, and undesiring Except in the aspect of time Caught in the form of limitation Between un-being and being. Sudden in a shaft of sunlight Even while the dust moves There rises the hidden laughter Of children in the foliage

Lord, I am not worthy Lord, I am not worthy but speak the word only.

She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice — Their behaviour's not good and their manners not nice; So when she has got them lined up on the matting, She teaches them music, crocheting and tatting.

Death! I had not thought Death had undone so many

certain of certain certainties.......

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? The cycles of heaven in twenty centuries have bought us farther from God and nearer to the dust

The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we know we started and know the place for the first time.

Our beginnings never know our ends.

As things are, and as fundamentally they must always be, poetry is not a career, but a mug's game. No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: He may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.

And in short, I was afraid.

Lady of silences Calm and distressed Torn and most whole Rose of memory Rose of forgetfulness Exhausted and life-giving Worried reposeful The single Rose Is now the Garden Where all loves end Terminate torment Of love unsatisfied The greater torment Of love satisfied End of the endless Journey to no end Conclusion of all that Is inconclusible Speech without word and Word of no speech Grace to the Mother For the Garden Where all love ends.

But that we had merely made use of each other Each for his purpose. That's horrible. Can we only love Something created by our own imagination?

O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320 Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

The remarkable thing about television is that it permits several million people to laugh at the same joke and still feel lonely.

There is no water, so things are bad. If there were water, it would be better. But there is no water.

What day is the day that we know that we hope for or fear for? Every day is the day we should hear from or hope from. One moment Weighs like another. Only in retrospection, selection, We say, that was the day. The critical moment That is always now, and here. Even now, in sordid particulars The eternal design may appear.

And when all the world came back And the light crept up between the shutters, And you heard the sparrows in the gutters, You had such a vision of the street As the street hardly understands;

You have gone through life in sleep, Never woken to the nightmare. I tell you, life would be unendurable If you were wide awake.

Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues Are forced upon us by our impudent crimes.

It is not my conscience, Not my mind, that is diseased, but the world I have to live in.