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First Written | 1943 |
Genre | Poetry |
Origin | UK |
Publisher | Mariner Books |
ISBN-10 | 0156332256 |
ISBN-13 | 978-0156332255 |
My Copy | old paperback |
First Read | July 09, 2008 |
Four Quartets
Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
Quoted on December 22, 2016
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Quoted on December 22, 2016
Time and the bell have buried the day
Quoted on October 1, 2011
Old men ought to be explorers Here and there does not matter We must be still and still moving Into another intensity For a further union, a deeper communion Through the dark cold and empty desolation, The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters Of the petrel and the porpoise. In the end is my beginning.
Quoted on October 1, 2011