“I am moved by fancies that are curled
around these images, and cling:
the notion of some infinitely gentle
infinitely suffering thing.”
(T.S. Eliot in Prelude IV)
“What shall I do now? What shall I do?
I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
What shall we ever do?”
(T.S. Eliot in Waste Land, 1922)
“It’s bright in the heavens and the wheels are flying
Fame and honor never seem to fade
The fire’s gone out but the light is never dying
Who says I can’t get heavenly aid?”
(Bob Dylan in Ain’t talkin’)