I grow old . . . I grow old . . . I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
T.S. Eliot (1888 - 1965)
Source: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, 1917
Contributed by: Zaady
Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow.
Source: the hollow men, 1925
Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose garden.
Source: Four Quartets
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions Guides us by vanities.
Source: Gerontion, 1920
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss.
Source: The Waste Land, 1922, Death by Water
Webster was much possessed by death And saw the skull beneath the skin.
Source: Whispers of Immortality, 1920
In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids Sprouting despondently at area gates.
Source: Morning at the Window, 1917
Do I dare Disturb the universe?
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.
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