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?
T.S. Eliot (2011). “The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot”, p.31, Faber & Faber
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