T. S. Eliot, fully Thomas Sterns Eliot

T. S.
Eliot, fully Thomas Sterns Eliot
1888
1965

American-born English Poet, Playwright, and Literary Critic

Author Quotes

Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

That is not it at all, that is not what I meant, at all.

The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying.

The nightingales are singing near The Convent of the Sacred Heart, And sang within the bloody wood When Agamemnon cried aloud, And let their liquid siftings fall To stain the stiff dishonored shroud.

The very existence of libraries affords the best evidence that we may yet have hope for the future of man.

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

This love is silent.

Turning wearily, as one would turn to nod goodbye to Rochefoucauld, if the street were time and he as the end of the street.

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value - a test, it is true, which can only be slowly and cautiously applied, for we are none of us infallible judges of conformity.

What have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart the awful daring of a moment's surrender which an age of prudence can never retract by this, and this only, we have existed.

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? The cycles of heaven in twenty centuries have bought us farther from God and nearer to the dust.

You know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock) And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

It is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.

Knowledge is invariably a matter of degree : you cannot put your finger upon even the simplest datum and say 'this we know'.

Mr. Aldous Huxley, who is perhaps one of those people who have to perpetrate thirty bad novels before producing a good one, has a certain natural - but little developed - aptitude for seriousness.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job.

Only by acceptance of the past will you alter its meaning.

Poetry is a mug's game.

So far as we are human, what we do must be either evil or good: so far as we do evil or good, we are human: and it is better, in a paradoxical way, to do evil than to do nothing: at least we exist.

That is the worst moment, when you feel you have lost the desires for all that was most desirable, before you are contented with what you can desire; before you know what is left to be desired; and you go on wishing that you could desire what desire has left behind. But you cannot understand. How could you understand what it is to feel old?

The dripping blood our only drink, the bloody flesh our only food: in spite of which we like to think that we are sound, substantial flesh and blood--Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

The Nobel is a ticket to one's own funeral. No one has ever done anything after he got it.

The winter evening settles down with smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps the grimy scraps of withered leaves about your feet. And newspapers from vacant lots; the showers beat on broken blinds and chimney-pots, and at the corner of the street a lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.

There's no vocabulary for love within a family, love that's lived in but not looked at, love within the light of which all else is seen, the love within which all other love finds speech. This love is silent.

This oval O cropped out with teeth.

Author Picture
First Name
T. S.
Last Name
Eliot, fully Thomas Sterns Eliot
Birth Date
1888
Death Date
1965
Bio

American-born English Poet, Playwright, and Literary Critic