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The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening.

— T. S. Eliot The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1915)

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More quotes by T. S. Eliot

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.

Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (1939)

The bad poet is usually unconscious where he ought to be conscious, and conscious where he ought to be unconscious.

Tradition and the Individual Talent (1919)

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.

Preface to Transit of Venus: Poems by Harry Crosby (1931)

Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen.

Ash-Wednesday (1930)

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

The Waste Land (1922)

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: T. S. Eliot (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.