There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
T. S. EliotRead
Desire itself is movement_x000D_ _x000D_ Not in itself desirable;_x000D_ _x000D_ Love is itself unmoving,_x000D_ _x000D_ Only the cause and end of movement,_x000D_ _x000D_ Timeless, and undesiring_x000D_ _x000D_ Except in the aspect of time_x000D_ _x000D_ Caught in the form of limitation_x000D_ _x000D_ Between un-being and being.
Interpretation
This quote explores the nature of desire and love, suggesting that while desire is a dynamic force, love is inherently stable and timeless.
T. S. Eliot's quote delves into the philosophical understanding of desire and love, positing that desire itself propels movement and change but lacks intrinsic value. In contrast, love is portrayed as a constant, unaffected by the transience of time, existing in a state that transcends mere wanting, and it is caught in the paradox of moving between being and un-being.
In practice
In a discussion about the complexities of human emotions at a philosophical seminar.
There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
Half of the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. They don't mean to do harm. But the harm does not interest them.
I am an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature and a royalist in politics.
If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
For I have known them all already, known them all— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace.
You see but your shadow when you turn your back to the sun.
In this culture, the phrase 'black woman' is not synonymous with 'tender,' or 'gentle.' It's as if those words couldn't possibly speak to the reality of black females.
Not to find one's way around a city does not mean much. But to lose one's way in a city, as one loses one's way in a forest, requires some schooling. Street names must speak to the urban wanderer like the snapping of dry twigs, and little streets in the heart of the city must reflect the times of day, for him, as clearly as a mountain valley. This art I acquired rather late in life; it fulfilled a dream, of which the first traces were labyrinths on the blotting papers in my school notebooks.
Wordplay hides a key to reality that the dictionary tries in vain to lock inside every free word.
If i should enter the house and speak with my own voice, at last, about its awful furnitutre, pulling apart the covering over the dusty bodies; the randy father, the husband holding ice in his hand like a blessing, the mother bleeding into herself and the small imploding girl, i say if i should walk into that web, who will come flying after me, leaping tall buildings? you?
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