It is obvious that we can no more explain a passion to a person who has never experienced it than we can… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
In our rhythm of earthly life we tire of light. We are glad when the day ends, when the play ends; and… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Between the desire And the spasm, Between the potency And the existence, Between the essence And the descent, Falls the Shadow. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
My life is light, waiting for the death wind, Like a feather on the back of my hand. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of God. .… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
A woman drew her long black hair out tight, And fiddled whisper music on those strings, And bats with baby faces in… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
The eastern light our spires touch at morning, The light that slants upon our western doors at evening, The twilight over stagnant… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' —Yet when we came back, late, from the… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Cold Mountain Buddhas Han Shan Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light,… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
The Nobel is a ticket to one's own funeral. No one has ever done anything after he got it. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
Dear Mother, I am getting on nicely in my work at the bank, and like it ... I want to find out something about… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope are all… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
All significant truths are private truths. As they become public they cease to become truths; they become facts, or at best, part of the… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
When forced to work within a strict framework, the imagination is taxed to its utmost and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom,… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
Honest criticism and sensitive appreciation are directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
Desire itself is movement Not in itself desirable; Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement, Timeless, and undesiring Except in… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
the ordinary man's experience is chaotic, irregular, fragmentary. [He] falls in love or reads Spinoza, and these two experiences have nothing to do with… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different than that from which it is torn. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share
