A collection of quotes by TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, Murde.
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In the small circle of pain within the skullYou still shall tramp and tread one endless roundOf thought, to justify your action to yourselves,Weaving a fiction which unravels as you weave,Pacing forever in the hell of make-believeWhich never is belief: this is your fate on earthAnd we must think no further of you.
TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, Murde
