[On The Waste Land:] Various critics have done me the honor to interpret the poem in terms of criticism of the contemporary world, have considered it, indeed, as an important bit of social criticism. To me it was only the relief of a personal and wholly insignificant grouse against life; it is just a piece of rhythmical grumbling.

Till Human voices wake us, and we drown.

Disillusion can become itself an illusion If we rest in it.

War is not a life: it is a situation, one which may neither be ignored nor accepted.

Art never improves, but... the material of art is never quite the same.

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.

The end is where we start from.