The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock A Poem by T.S. Eliot www.poetryfoundation.org A pair of ragged clawsDo I dare disturb the universe?That is not it at allI have heard the mermaids singing lonelinessmelancholy
The Waste Land A Poem by T.S. Eliot www.poetryfoundation.org HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIMEA handful of dustWho walks beside you?Has it begun to sprout?Fragments solitudesociety
Human kind cannot bear very much reality A Fragment by T.S. Eliot www.coldbacon.com Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind Cannot bear very much reality. Time past and time future What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. realitytime
On 'The Master and His Emissary' A Quote by Ian McGilchrist www.ttbook.org People who make works of art, whatever they might be, have gone to great trouble to make something unique which is embodied in the form that it is, and not in any other form, and that it transmits things that remain implicit ...Works of art are not just disembodied, entirely abstract, conceptual things. They are embodied in the words they’re in or in paint or in stone or in musical notes or whatever it might be. The work is what it meansThe meaning of musicIf a book can be summarized, is it worth reading? artmaterialmeaningform