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Uploaded by gymnopedija on Dec 12, 2009
A biography/documentary on T.S. Eliot
Music
Standard YouTube License
No dislike. I like it.
padrino2408 4 months ago
Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit proceeds,
Unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.
oldpossum 9 months ago
Second, the conscious impotence of rage at human folly,
And the laceration of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
The editing of the sequences is terrible. I had this wholly useless ambition of memorizing 4Q, and the lines of the gifts reserved for age, brutally interrupted here, are precious to me:
Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
To set a crown upon your lifetime's efforts:
First, the cold friction of expiring sense,
Without enchantment, offering no promise
But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
As body and mind begin to fall asunder.
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No dislike. I like it.
padrino2408 4 months ago
Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit proceeds,
Unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.
oldpossum 9 months ago
Second, the conscious impotence of rage at human folly,
And the laceration of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
oldpossum 9 months ago
The editing of the sequences is terrible. I had this wholly useless ambition of memorizing 4Q, and the lines of the gifts reserved for age, brutally interrupted here, are precious to me:
Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
To set a crown upon your lifetime's efforts:
First, the cold friction of expiring sense,
Without enchantment, offering no promise
But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
As body and mind begin to fall asunder.
oldpossum 9 months ago