For you know only a heap of broken images
T.S. EliotIf the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the spoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in the darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the center of the silent Word.
Oh my people, what have I done unto thee.
Where shall the word be found, where shall the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time
The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying.
T.S. EliotMots clés life death dream birth dying twilight
I gotta use words to talk to you.
T.S. EliotHell is oneself,
Hell is alone.
Now that the lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful afterall
To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man's life.
T.S. EliotImmature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
T.S. EliotMots clés humor imitation writing originality maturity plagiarism
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