Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.
And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.
Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.
Tradition: how the vitality of the past enriches the life of the present.
The historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of literature from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order.