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Philosophy: a purple bullfinch in a lilac tree.
T. S. Eliot
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T. S. Eliot
Age: 76 †
Born: 1888
Born: September 26
Died: 1965
Died: January 4
Critic
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Lyricist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Social Critic
St. Louis
Missouri
Thomas Stearns Eliot
Eliot
T S Eliot
Thomas Eliot
T.S. Eliot
Lilac
Purple
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Tree
Philosophy
More quotes by T. S. Eliot
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
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A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything)
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Think neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices are fathered by our heroism. Virtues are forced upon us by our impudent crimes. These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.
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Our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves, and of our visible, sensible world.
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Most of the trouble in the world is caused by people wanting to be important.
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Art is the escape from personality.
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Cats must have three names-an everyday name, such as Peter a more particular, dignified name, such as Quaxo, Bombalurina, or Jellylorum and, thirdly, the name the cat thinks up for himself, his deep and inscrutable singular Name.
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The work of creation is never without travail.
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The rats are underneath the piles/ The Jew is underneath the lot.
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When the Stranger says: What is the meaning of this city? Do you huddle close together because you love each other? What will you answer? We all dwell together To make money from each other? or This is a community? Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger. Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions.
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If you want it you must obtain it by great labor.
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Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.
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Human kind cannot bear much reality.
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So first, your memory I'll jog, And say: A CAT IS NOT A DOG
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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.
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The old should be explorers, be curious, risk transgression, explore oldness itself.
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O father, father Gone from us, lost to us, The church lies bereft, Alone, Desecrated, desolated. And the heathen shall build On the ruins Their world without God. I see it. I see it.
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Hurry up, please, its time.
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The circle of our understanding is a very restricted area.
T. S. Eliot
The destination cannot be described / You will know very little until you get there / You will journey blind.
T. S. Eliot