Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
T.S. Eliot, from Four Quartets; Burnt Norton. (via xshayarsha)
In my end is my beginning.
T.S. Eliot, from Four Quartets; East Coker. (via xshayarsha)
What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind.
T.S. Eliot, from section I of “Burnt Norton,” Four Quartets (Mariner Books, 1968)