Ego is a rat on the sinking ship of being.

Ego is a rat on the sinking ship of being.

Home History theme

"Some one 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."

- T. S. Eliot, from “Tradition and the Individual”

"The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white."

- T. S. Eliot, from “Rhapsody on a Windy Night”

[prompted by odalisquia’s word suggestion: “nostalgia”]

"…there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightening
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts."

- T.S. Eliot, “The Dry Salvages”

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T.S. Eliot