At The Still Point Of The Turning

Signs Are Taken For Wonders. / 'we Would See A Sign!' / The Word Within A Word, Unable To Speak A Word, / Swaddled With Darkness.

I Journeyed To London, To The Timekept City, Where The River Flows, With Foreign Flotations. There I Was Told: We Have Too Many Churches, And Too Few Chop-houses.

Every Phrase And Every Sentence Is An End And A Beginning, Every Poem An Epitaph.

You Are The Music While The Music Lasts.

No Poet, No Artist Of Any Art, Has His Complete Meaning Alone. His Significance, His Appreciation Is The Appreciation Of His Relation To The Dead Poets And Artists. You Cannot Value Him Alone; You Must Set Him, For Contrast And Comparison, Among The Dead.