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T. S. Eliot Quotes - Page 12

All Quotes Adventure Age Aging Ambition Appreciation Art Atheism Attitude Awareness Birth Children Choices Christianity Church Coffee Communication Confusion Country Creation Criticism Culture Dance Dancing Darkness Death Desire Destiny Discipline Dying Evil Experience Faith Fear Feelings Fighting Food Funny Genius Giving Graduation Greatness Heart History Home Hope House Humanity Humility Ignorance Imagination Inspiration Inspirational Inspiring Journey Judging Justice Knowledge Labor Language Laughter Life Literature Loneliness Love Lying Meditation Memories Morning Motivational Mountain Music New Beginnings Pain Passion Past Peace Personality Philosophy Poetry Progress Purpose Rain Reading Reality Religion Risk Running Silence Simplicity Singing Soul Spring Struggle Success Suffering Talent Tea Time Tradition Understanding Vision Waiting War Winter Work Writing

Philosophy: a purple bullfinch in a lilac tree.

Philosophy: a purple bullfinch in a lilac tree.

Philosophy, Purple, Tree

The rats are underneath the piles/ The Jew is underneath the lot.

Rats, Jew

T.S. Eliot (2010). “The Waste Land and Other Poems”, p.45, Broadview Press

Any poet, if he is to survive beyond his 25th year, must alter; he must seek new literary influences; he will have different emotions to express.

Years, Different, Emotion

He had a mind so fine that no idea could violate it

Ideas, Mind, Fine

The sense of wellbeing! Its often with us When we are young, but then it's not noticed; And by the time one has grown to consciousness It comes less often.

Health, Consciousness, Young

T.S. Eliot (2013). “The Elder Statesman”, p.27, Faber & Faber

Think not forever of yourselves, O Chiefs, nor of your own generation. Think of continuing generations of our families, think of our grandchildren and of those yet unborn, whose faces are coming from beneath the ground.

Peace, Native American, Grandchildren

Men have left GOD not for other gods, they say, but for no God; and this has never happened before.

Men, Atheism, Happened

T.S. Eliot (2009). “Selected Poems of T. S. Eliot”, p.100, Faber & Faber

I suspect that in our loathing of totalitarianism, there is infused a good deal of admiration for its efficiency.

Loathing, Admiration, Efficiency

T. S. Eliot (2014). “The Idea of a Christian Society”, p.14, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

There is no method but to be very intelligent.

Intelligent, Intelligence, Crafts

A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything)

Simplicity, Quartets, Conditions

Four Quartets "Little Gidding" pt. 5 (1942)

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.

Games, Careers, May

Sand. Everywhere. In the bed, in the shower, all over the floor. Grrrrr.

Bed, Sand, Showers

Our high respect for a well read person is praise enough for literature.

Respect, Library, Literature

A good half of the effort of understanding what the Indian philosophers were after - and their subtleties make most of the great European philosophers look like schoolboys.

Philosophy, Effort, Understanding

He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience.

Patience, Dying, Littles

1922 The Waste Land, pt.5,'What the Thunder Said'.

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.

Hands, Window Panes, Yellow

T. S. Eliot (2012). “The Waste Land, Prufrock and Other Poems”, p.8, Courier Corporation

These fragments I have shored against my ruins

Age, Ruins, Nostalgia

The Waste Land l. 431 (1922)

In a world of fugitives the one who stays home will seem to be running away

Running, Home, World

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought.

Meditation, Waiting, Thyme

1940 Four Quartets,'East Coker', pt.1.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word / Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence.

Silence, Enough, Found

T.S. Eliot (2009). “Collected Poems 1909-1962”, p.86, Faber & Faber

He laughed like an irresponsible foetus.

Laughter, Irresponsible, Laughed

T.S. Eliot (2009). “Collected Poems 1909-1962”, p.25, Faber & Faber

i will show you fear in a handful of dust." t.s. eliot we don't actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.

Dust, Absence, Fear Of Death

All time is eternal, moving inexorably toward an end which we believe is a result of our actions, but over which our control is mere illusion.

Believe, Moving, Our Actions

The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways.

Food, Winter, Smell

"Preludes" l. 1 (1917)

So the lover must struggle for words.

Struggle, Alaska, Lovers

T.S. Eliot (2011). “The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot”, p.574, Faber & Faber

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