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
Such tortuous syntax How does a writer manage to turn out such tortuous syntax? It happens when he shovels phrase after phrase onto the page in the order which each one occurs to him. The problem is that the order in which thoughts occur to the writer is different from the order in which they are easily discovered by a reader. It’s a syntactic version of the curse of knowledge. The writer can see the links among the concepts in his internal web of knowledge, and has forgotten that a reader needs to build an orderly tree to decipher them from his string of words. Steven Pinker, The Sense of Style Who the fuck is Guy Debord?The curse of knowledgeChoose a suitable design and hold to it