T. S. Eliot Quotations | Page 2

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

The lot of man is ceaseless labor, Or ceaseless idleness, which is still harder.

We do not pass through the same door twice Or return to the door through which we did not pass

To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not, You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy. In order to arrive at what you do not know You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance. In order to possess what you do not possess You must go by the way of dispossession. In order to arrive at what you are not You must go through the way in which you are not. And what you do not know is the only thing you know And what you own is what you do not own And where you are is where you are not.

This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.

Here I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.

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

All dash to and fro in motor cars. Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.

We had the experience but missed the meaning. And approach to the meaning restores the experience in a different form.

and now you live dispersed on ribbon roads, And no man knows or cares who is his neighbor Unless his neighbor makes too much disturbance, But all dash to and fro in motor cars, Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.