T. S. Eliot Quotes
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The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion.
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Philosophy: a purple bullfinch in a lilac tree.
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Where shall the word be found, where will the word / Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence.
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It is a test (a positive test, I do not assert that it is always valid negatively), that genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
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Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'/Let us go and make our visit.
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If one has to earn a living, therefore, the safest occupation is that most remote from the arts.
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You are the music while the music lasts.
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The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
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We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open
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Here were decent godless people; Their only monument the asphalt road And a thousand lost golf balls.
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In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
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The old should be explorers, be curious, risk transgression, explore oldness itself.
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So the lover must struggle for words.
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Tennyson and Browning are poets, and they think; but they do not feel their thought as immediately as the odour of a rose. A thought to Donne was an experience; it modified his sensibility.
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It's harder to confess the sin that no one believes in Than the crime that everyone can appreciate. For the crime is in relation to the law And the sin is in relation to the sinner.
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And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? -
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The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.
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When the whole world is running headlong towards the precipice, one who walks in the opposite direction is looked at as being crazy.
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Talent imitates, genius steals.
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I would meet you upon this honestly. I that was near your heart was removed therefrom To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition. I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it Since what is kept must be adulterated? I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch: How should I use them for your closer contact?
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I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope, For hope would be hope for the wrong thing.
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We took up our positions, in obedience to instructions.
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Liberty is a different kind of pain from prison.
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Men dislike being awakened from their death in life.
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It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.
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Time past and time future allow but a little consciousness. To be conscious is not to be in time.
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Yeats was the greatest poet of our times . . . certainly the greatest in this language, and so far as I am able to judge, in any language.
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We can say of Shakespeare, that never has a man turned so little knowledge to such great account.
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I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
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The remarkable thing about television is that it permits several million people to laugh at the same joke and still feel lonely.
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