A wrong attitude toward nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude toward God. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Men have left GOD not for other gods, they say, but for no God; and this has never happened before. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
With a poem you can say 'I got my feeling into words for myself. I now have the equivalent in words for… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
To men of a certain type The suspicion that they are incapable of loving Is as disturbing to their self-esteem As, in… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
It is not enough to understand what we ought to be, unless we know what we are; and we do not understand… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Although I do not hope to turn again Although I do not hope Although I do not hope to turn — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Love is the unfamiliar Name Behind the hands that wove The intolerable shirt of flame Which human power cannot remove. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
In order to possess what you do not possess, you must go by the way of dispossession. — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Desire itself is movement Not in itself desirable; Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement, Timeless, and undesiring… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Can we only love Something created in our own imaginations? Are we all in fact unloving and unloveable? Then one is alone,… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
the ordinary man's experience is chaotic, irregular, fragmentary. [He] falls in love or reads Spinoza, and these two experiences have nothing to… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Because I know that time is always time and place is always place and only place. And what is actual is actual… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter. Old men ought to be explorers Here or there does… — T. S. Eliot Copy Share Image
Lady of silences Calm and distressed Torn and most whole Rose of memory Rose of forgetfulness Exhausted and life-giving Worried reposeful The… — 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