All time is eternal, moving inexorably toward an end which we believe is a result of our actions, but over which our control is mere illusion.

If all time is eternally present, all time is unredeemable

Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think

For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

Time present and time past / are both perhaps present in time future.

Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.

[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.