If time and space, as sages say, Are things which cannot be, The sun which does not feel decayNo greater is than we. So why, Love, should we ever prayTo live a century?The butterfly that lives a dayHas lived eternity.
T.S. Eliot
For he will doAs he do doAnd there's no doing anything about it!
cats
He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's. And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled, Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled, Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair -Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty's gone astray, Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way, There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair -But it's useless to investigate - Mcavity's not there!And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say: 'It must have been Macavity!' - but he's a mile away. You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs, Or engaged in doing complicated long-division sums. Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity. He always has an alibi, and one or two to spaer: At whatever time the deed took place - MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the timeJust controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
Do I dare Disturb the universe?
dreams change courage fear make-a-difference
change eternity
What is hell? Hell is oneself. Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from And nothing to escape to. One is always alone.
loneliness hell
Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness.. Where is the Life we have lost in living?Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
inspirational-quotes
Someone said, 'The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.' Precisely, and they are that which we know.
knowledge
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
loneliness observation singing mermaid
Not the intense momentIsolated, with no before and after, But a lifetime burning in every moment.
life man time moment eternity
Footfalls echo in the memorydown the passage we did not taketowards the door we never openedinto the rose garden. My words echothus, in your mind
memory
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
reality humankind
Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance
spirituality
Time present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.
time
The journey not the arrival matters.
travel
The dove descending breaks the airWith flame of incandescent terrorOf which the tongues declareThe one discharge from sin and error. The only hope, or else despairLies in the choice of pyre or pyre-To be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar NameBehind the hands that woveThe intolerable shirt of flameWhich human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspireConsumed by either fire or fire.
fire holy-spirit
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