There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
T. S. EliotRead
Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects a sense of intimacy and shared experience in exploring the beauty of the world at dusk.
In this quote, T. S. Eliot invites someone to join him in a moment of reflection and connection as twilight descends. The imagery of the evening sky evokes a sense of wonder and contemplation, suggesting that intimate moments shared with another can reveal beauty and depth in the simplest experiences of life.
Themes
EveningSkyIntimacyReflectionBeauty
In practice
Example use cases
In a wedding speech, you might use this quote to highlight the beauty of shared moments.
More from T. S. Eliot
All quotes βHalf 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.
T. S. EliotRead
I am an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature and a royalist in politics.
T. S. EliotRead
If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
T. S. EliotRead
For I have known them all already, known them allβ Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
T. S. EliotRead
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
T. S. EliotRead
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n OthI n g can s urPas s the m y SteR y of s tilLnes s
E. E. CummingsRead
Fly not yet; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.
Charles LambRead
With a changing key, you unlock the house where the snow of whatβs silenced drifts. Just like the blood that bursts from Your eye or mouth or ear, so your key changes. Changing your key changes the word That may drift with flakes. Just like the wind that rebuffs you, Clenched round your word is the snow.
Paul CelanRead
The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
Arthur RimbaudRead
My tears are like the quiet drift of petals from some magic rose; and all my grief flows from the rift of unremembered skies and snows. I think that if I touched the earth, it would crumble; it is so sad and beautiful, so tremulously like a dream.
Dylan ThomasRead
Sitting over words _x000D_ Very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing _x000D_ Not far _x000D_ Like a night wind in pines or like the sea in the dark _x000D_ The echo of everything that has ever _x000D_ Been spoken _x000D_ Still spinning its one syllable _x000D_ Between the earth and silence.
W. S. MerwinRead