Thomas Stearns Eliot Quotes (86 Quotes)


    Success is relative. It is what we can make of the mess we have made of things.






    In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.



    We might remind ourselves that criticism is as inevitable as breathing, and that we should be none the worse for articulating what passes in our minds when we read a book and feel an emotion about it, for criticizing our own minds in their work of criticism.


    We must believe that 'emotion recollected in tranquillity' is an inexact formula. For it is neither emotion, nor recollection, nor without distortion of meaning, tranquillity. It is a concentration, and a new thing resulting from the concentration of a very great number of experiences which to the practical and active person would not seem to be experiences at all it is a concentration which does not happen consciously or of deliberation. These experiences are not 'recollected' and they finally unite in an atmosphere which is 'tranquil' only in that it is a passive attending upon the event.

    Over buttered scones and crumpets Weeping, weeping multitudes Droop in a hundred A. B. C.'s.


    Let us go then, you and I When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table.

    But at my back from time to time I hear The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water.


    I shall not want Honor in Heaven For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney And have talk with Coriolanus And other heroes of that kidney.

    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.

    Lady of silences Calm and distressed Torn and most whole Rose of memory Rose of forgetfulness Exhausted and life-giving Worried reposeful The single Rose Is now the Garden Where all loves end Terminate torment Of love unsatisfied The greater torment Of love satisfied End of the endless Journey to no end Conclusion of all that Is inconclusible Speech without word and Word of no speech Grace to the Mother For the Garden Where all love ends.

    The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.


    No I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two Advise the prince no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse At times, indeed, almost ridiculous Almost, at times, the Fool.


    Journey of the Magi 'A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.' And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, Lying down in the melti.


    It is impossible to design a system so perfect that no one needs to be good.

    Sometimes these cogitations still amaze The troubled midnight and the noon's repose.

    Music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts.

    When we read of human beings behaving in certain ways, with the approval of the author, who gives his benediction to this behavior by his attitude towards the result of the behavior arranged by himself, we can be influenced towards behaving in the same way.

    And indeed there will be time To wonder, 'Do I dare' and, 'Do I dare' Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair.

    Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past.


    Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss.

    Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow.

    And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.

    The Civil War is not ended I question whether any serious civil war ever does end.


    Last seasons fruit is eaten And the fullfed beast shall kick the empty pail. For last years words belong to last years language And next years words await another voice.


    I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

    I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each I do not think they will sing to me.

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

    My life is light, waiting for the death wind, Like a feather on the back of my hand.

    When lovely woman stoops to folly and Paces about her room again, alone, She smooths her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone.



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

    After such knowledge, what forgiveness Think now History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions Guides us by vanities.


    He knew the anguish of the marrow The ague of the skeleton No contact possible to flesh Allayed the fever of the bone.


    More Thomas Stearns Eliot Quotations (Based on Topics)


    Life - Emotions - Time - Garden - World - Winter - Death & Dying - Hair - Law & Regulation - Nature - Singing - Experience - Heaven - Music - Curiosity - Tea - Moderation & Temperance - Crime - Soul - View All Thomas Stearns Eliot Quotations

    Related Authors


    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Page 1 of 2 1 2

Authors (by First Name)

A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M
N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

Other Inspiring Sections