I say to you: Make perfect your will. / I say: take no thought of the harvest, / But only of proper sowing.
T. S. EliotWe have all our private terrors, our particular shadows, our secret fears. We are afraid in a fear which we cannot face, which none understands, and our hearts are torn from us, our brains unskinned like the layers of an onion, ourselves the last.
T. S. EliotBecause these wings are no longer wings to fly But merely vans to beat the air The air which is now thoroughly small and dry Smaller and dryer than the will Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still
T. S. Eliot