{"id":158499,"date":"2023-05-06T15:58:07","date_gmt":"2023-05-06T15:58:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.english-culture.com\/?p=158499"},"modified":"2024-04-25T13:55:02","modified_gmt":"2024-04-25T13:55:02","slug":"t-s-eliot-thoughts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.english-culture.com\/t-s-eliot-thoughts\/","title":{"rendered":"T.S. Eliot thoughts"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"T.S.<\/a>
T.S. Eliot thoughts<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

T.S. Eliot thoughts, opinions, ideas, reflections, quotations about literature, poetry, society, culture, existence, men, history, freedom and other topics.<\/span><\/p>\n

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an ‘objective correlative’; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Whoever has approved this idea of order, of the form of European, of English literature, will not find it preposterous that the past should be altered by the present as much as the present is directed by the past. And the poet who is aware of this will be aware of great difficulties and responsibilities.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The critic must compose his differences with as many of his fellows as possible in the common pursuit of true judgement.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And so each venture Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate With shabby equipment always deteriorating In the general mess of imprecision of feeling, Undisciplined squads of emotion.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The greatness of literature cannot be determined solely by literary standards though we must remember that whether it is literature or not can be determined only by literary standards.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

You think me reckless, desperate and mad. You argue by results, as this world does, To settle if an act be good or bad. You defer to the fact. For every life and every act Consequence of good and evil can be shown. And as in time results of many deeds are blended <\/span>So good and evil in the end become confounded. It is not in time that my death shall be known; It is out of time that my decision is taken If you call that decision To which my whole being gives entire consent. I give my life To the Law of God above the Law of Man.<\/span>
\nThose who do not the same How should they know what I do?<\/span>
\nT. S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

In the seventeenth century a dissociation of sensibility set in, from which we have never recovered; and this dissociation, as is natural, was aggravated by the influence of the two most powerful poets of the century, Milton and Dryden.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

To believe in the supernatural is not simply to believe that after living a successful, material, and fairly virtuous life here one will continue to exist in the best-possible substitute for this world, or that after living a starved and stunted life here one will be compensated with all the good things one has gone without: it is to believe that the supernatural is the greatest reality here and now.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

If you find examples of humanism which are anti-religious, or at least in opposition to the religious faith of the place and time, then such humanism is purely destructive, for it has never found anything to replace what it has destroyed.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And Shakespeare himself takes liberties which only his genius justifies; liberties which Dante, with an equal genius, does not take. To pass on to posterity one\u2019s own language, more highly developed, more refined, and more precise than it was before one wrote it, that is the highest possible achievement of the poet as poet. <\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

To be truly great poets it is not enough to have language and vision; it is also necessary to possess a great philosophical and\/or theological system, which Shakespeare lacked and Dante did not.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Can we only love Something created in our own imaginations? Are we all in fact unloving and unloveable? Then one is alone, and if one is alone Then lover and beloved are equally unreal And the dreamer is no more real than his dreams.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

There are several symptoms Which must occur together, and to a marked degree, To qualify a patient for my sanatorium: And one of them is an honest mind. That is one of the causes of their suffering.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

\"T.S.<\/a>
T.S. Eliot thoughts and quotations<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

No one can become really educated without having pursued some study in which he took no interest- for it is a part of education to learn to interest ourselves in subjects for which we have no aptitude.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We must believe that “emotion recollected in tranquillity” is an inexact formula. For it is neither emotion, nor recollection, nor without distortion of meaning, tranquillity. It is a concentration, and a new thing resulting from the concentration of a very great number of experiences which to the practical and active person would not seem to be experiences at all; it is a concentration which does not happen consciously or of deliberation. These experiences are not “recollected” and they finally unite in an atmosphere which is “tranquil” only in that it is a passive attending upon the event.<\/span>
\nT. S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

It is not enough to understand what we ought to be, unless we know what we are; and we do not understand what we are, unless we know what we ought to be.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

As a rule, with me an unfinished thing is a thing that might as well be rubbed out.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

There’s no vocabulary For love within a family, love that’s lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We are being made aware that the organization of society on the principle of private profit, as well as public destruction, is leading both to the deformation of humanity by unregulated industrialism, and to the exhaustion of natural resources, and that a good deal of our material progress is a progress for which succeeding generations may have to pay dearly.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s harder to confess the sin that no one believes in Than the crime that everyone can appreciate. For the crime is in relation to the law And the sin is in relation to the sinner.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

No scheme for a change of society can be made to appear immediately palatable, except by falsehood, until society has become so desperate that it will accept any change.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

I do not believe that any writer has ever exposed this bovarysme, the human will to see things as they are not, more clearly than Shakespeare.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Every nation, every race, has not only its own creative, but its own critical turn of mind; and is even more oblivious of the shortcomings and limitations of its critical habits than of those of its creative genius.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

I take as metaphysical poetry that in which what is ordinarily apprehensible only by thought is brought within the grasp of feeling, or that in which what is ordinarily only felt is transformed into thought without ceasing to be feeling.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

\"T.S.<\/a>
T.S. Eliot reflections<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Poets in our civilization, as it exists at present, must be difficult… The poet must become more and more comprehensive, more allusive, more indirect, in order to force, to dislocate if necessary, language into its meaning.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Tennyson and Browning are poets, and they think; but they do not feel their thought as immediately as the odour of a rose. A thought to Donne was an experience; it modified his sensibility.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

So far as we are human, what we do must be either evil or good: so far as we do evil or good, we are human: and it is better, in a paradoxical way, to do evil than to do nothing: at least we exist.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We dwell with satisfaction upon the poet’s difference from his predecessors, especially his immediate predecessors; we endeavour to find something that can be isolated in order to be enjoyed. Whereas if we approach a poet without this prejudice we shall often find that not only the best, but the most individual parts of his work may be those in which the dead poets, his ancestors, assert their immortality most vigorously. And I do not mean the impressionable period of adolescence, but the period of full maturity.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Mr. Aldous Huxley, who is perhaps one of those people who have to perpetrate thirty bad novels before producing a good one, has a certain natural – but little developed – aptitude for seriousness.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

If we are moved by a poem, it has meant something, perhaps something important, to us; if we are not moved, then it is, as poetry, meaningless.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We can at least try to understand our own motives, passions, and prejudices, so as to be conscious of what we are doing when we appeal to those of others. This is very difficult, because our own prejudice and emotional bias always seems to us so rational.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The historical sense involves a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence; the historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of the literature of Europe from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order. This historical sense, which is a sense of the timeless as well as of the temporal and of the timeless and of the temporal together, is what makes a writer traditional. And it is at the same time what makes a writer most acutely conscious of his place in time, of his contemporaneity.<\/span>
\nT. S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Those who talk of the bible as a monument of English prose are merely admiring it as a monument over the grave of Christianity.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

I hate university towns and university people, who are the same everywhere, with pregnant wives, sprawling children, many books and hideous pictures on the walls… Oxford is very pretty, but I don’t like to be dead.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Gradually we come to admit that Shakespeare understands a greater extent and variety of human life than Dante; but that Dante understands deeper degrees of degradation and higher degrees of exaltation.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

More can be learned about how to write poetry from Dante than from any English poet…. The language of each great English poet is his own language; the language of Dante is the perfection of a common language.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

There are three conditions which often look alike Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow: Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference,….<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value – a test, it is true, which can only be slowly and cautiously applied, for we are none of us infallible judges of conformity.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The purpose of a Christian education would not be merely to make men and women pious Christians: a system which aimed too rigidly at this end alone would become only obscurantist. A Christian education must primarily teach people to be able to think in Christian categories.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Then it seemed as if men must proceed from light to light, in the light of the Word, Through the Passion and Sacrifice saved in spite of their negative being; Bestial as always before, carnal, self seeking as always before, selfish and purblind as ever before, Yet always struggling, always reaffirming, always resuming their march on the way that was lit by the light; Often halting, loitering, straying, delaying, returning, yet following no other way.<\/span>
\nT. S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

\"T.S.<\/a>
T.S. Eliot thoughts and quotes<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The poet’s mind is in fact a receptacle for seizing and storing up numberless feelings, phrases, images, which remain there until all the particles which can unite to form a new compound are present together.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

As things are, and as fundamentally they must always be, poetry is not a career, but a mug’s game. No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value – a test, it is true, which can only be slowly and cautiously applied, for we are none of us infallible judges of conformity.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The difference between being an elder statesman And posing successfully as an elder statesman Is practically negligible.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

No generation is interested in art in quite the same way as any other; each generation, like each individual, brings to the contemplation of art its own categories of appreciation, makes its own demands upon art, and has its own uses for art.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We fight for lost causes because we know that our defeat and dismay may be the preface to our successors’ victory, though that victory itself will be temporary; we fight rather to keep something alive than in the expectation that anything will triumph.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

A good half of the effort of understanding what the Indian philosophers were after – and their subtleties make most of the great European philosophers look like schoolboys.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

What a poem means is as much what it means to others as what it means to the author; and indeed, in the course of time a poet may become merely reader in respect to his own works, forgetting his original meaning.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor – And this, and so much more? –<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And we all go with them, into the silent funeral, Nobody’s funeral, for there is no one to bury. I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of God.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

O Lord, deliver me from the man of excellent intention and impure heart: for the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

I take as metaphysical poetry that in which what is ordinarily apprehensible only by thought is brought within the grasp of feeling, or that in which what is ordinarily only felt is transformed into thought without ceasing to be feeling.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We might remind ourselves that criticism is as inevitable as breathing, and that we should be none the worse for articulating what passes in our minds when we read a book and feel an emotion about it, for criticizing our own minds in their work of criticism.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown, Lilac and brown hair; Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair, Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair Climbing the third stair.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

I must tell you that I should really like to think there’s something wrong with me- Because, if there isn’t, then there’s something wrong with the world itself-and that’s much more frightening! That would be terrible. So I’d rather believe there is something wrong with me, that could be put right.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

\"T.S.<\/a>
T.S. Eliot quotes and thoughts<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting, I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

But the Church cannot be, in any political sense, either conservative or liberal, or revolutionary. Conservatism is too often conservation of the wrong things: liberalism a relaxation of discipline; revolution a denial of the permanent things.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

What happens is a continual surrender of himself as he is at the moment to something which is more valuable. The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Composing on the typewriter, I find that I am sloughing off all my long sentences which I used to dote upon. Short, staccato, like modern French prose. The typewriter makes for lucidity, but I am not sure that it encourages subtlety.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

What is this self-inside us, this silent observer, severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us, and urge us onto futile activity, and in the end, judge us still more severely for the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

If time and space, as sages say, Are things which cannot be, The sun which does not feel decay No greater is than we. So why, Love, should we ever pray To live a century? The butterfly that lives a day Has lived eternity.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

When we read of human beings behaving in certain ways, with the approval of the author, who gives his benediction to this behavior by his attitude towards the result of the behavior arranged by himself, we can be influenced towards behaving in the same way.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

We might remind ourselves that criticism is as inevitable as breathing, and that we should be none the worse for articulating what passes in our minds when we read a book and feel an emotion about it, for criticizing our own minds in their work of criticism.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

History may be servitude. History may be freedom. See, now they vanish. The faces and places, with the self which, as it could, loved them, to become renewed, transfigured, in another pattern.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

Maturing as a poet means maturing as the whole man, experiencing new emotions appropriate to one’s age, and with the same intensity as the emotions of youth.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

It is not necessarily those lands which are the most fertile or most favored in climate that seem to me the happiest, but those in which a long struggle of adaptation between man and his environment has brought out the best qualities of both.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying Unbroken wings. And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices And the weak spirit quickens to rebel For the bent goldenrod and the lost sea smell.<\/span>
\nT.S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

And now you live dispersed on ribbon roads, And no man knows or cares who is his neighbor Unless his neighbor makes too much disturbance, But all dash to and fro in motor cars, Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.<\/span>
\nT. S. Eliot<\/span><\/p>\n

By the same author you can also read:<\/span><\/p>\n

T.S. Eliot quotes and aphorisms<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

T.S. Eliot poetic quotes<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Aforismi e citazioni di T.S. Eliot<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Aprile il mese pi\u00f9 crudele<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Complete Poems by T.S. Eliot<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Selected essays by T.S. Eliot<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Collected poems 1909-1935<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Quotes by authors<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Quotes by arguments<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Essays with quotes<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Thoughts and reflections<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

News and events<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

T.S. Eliot thoughts, opinions, ideas, reflections, quotations about literature, poetry, society, culture, existence, men, history, freedom and other topics. The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[715,1169,136,202,1220,33,718,187,209,143,146,11,190,194,562,171,1128,2161,3896,90,55,132,224,12],"tags":[3958,3861,205,4960,1139,1174,648,4961,5370,1133,288,294,2283,1410,4959,1576,1213,1585],"class_list":["post-158499","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-crafts","category-books","category-communication","category-creativity","category-culture","category-education","category-english-world","category-ideas","category-imagination","category-language","category-life","category-literature","category-love","category-power","category-quotations","category-quotes","category-quotes-by-authors","category-religion","category-society","category-spirituality","category-struggle-against-stupidity","category-the-world-of-english","category-thoughts","category-writing","tag-donne","tag-emotion","tag-existence","tag-experiences","tag-freedom","tag-history-2","tag-ideas-2","tag-indian","tag-literary-criticism","tag-opinions","tag-philosopher","tag-poetry","tag-poets","tag-reflections","tag-sensibility","tag-shakespeare","tag-society-2","tag-t-s-eliot"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t