Tag: T. S. Eliot

Quote of the Day: Going Too Far


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

Today is the 53rd anniversary of the launch of Apollo 11, the first manned mission to land on the Moon. It was one of this nation’s greatest accomplishments. I watched the launch on my 14th birthday. Four days later, at a church picnic, I was one of scores of attendees who were ignoring a beautiful July summer day in Michigan to huddle around fuzzy portable televisions to watch the Moon landing. Unless you were there, you cannot imagine the impact that made.

Quote of the Day: Importance


“Half the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. They don’t mean to do harm; but the harm does not interest them. Or they do not see it, or they justify it because they are absorbed in the endless struggle to think well of themselves.” – T.S. Eliot

Can you say Omicron (or Omnicron) variant? I knew you could.

‘Prufrock’ in a Nutshell


You love to read literary criticism, don’t you? Of course, you do. It’s why you come to Ricochet. So let me offer you a small diversion this morning by analyzing one of the staples of the British literary canon, T. S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I think I can do this by focusing our attention on only three lines from the poem.

If you remember, Love Song is a portrait of an upper-middle-class Englishman, perhaps a banker (like T. S. Eliot himself was for a time), a little twit, anxious and afraid of life, who comes to an understanding of what he is during the course of the poem. Here, then, is the first sentence I’d like to consider.

In the room the women come and go/ Talking of Michelangelo.”

A Pretty Good Cat


My siblings are bonkers about cats. I’m used to that. I’ve borne years of anthropomorphic fantasies about a line of household pets that included a sensitive and gorgeous special breed, country cross-varieties vaguely named after T.S. Eliot characters, and a few city “patio cats.” I’ve witnessed naming deliberations for new kitties that drag on for weeks, with “Pockets” being a near winner and a friend begging them not to saddle it with a noun handle for life. They eventually settled on human names for their animals, which pleased everyone: Eleanor, Titus. Titus, nearly two decades old, is still with us, and shows up occasionally in pictures, like the time he was sporting a small wide tie that my brother said made him think of “a night manager at Denny’s.”

What has just dawned on me, however, is that another family member has been something of a dark horse when it comes to passion for felines. I mean, I knew my dad liked cats, but I finally realized the degree of this affinity today when my mom texted us with a charming innovation my dad used to solve a problem with their old cat.

Member Post


I try to be a cultured guy, I really do. When I read that a poet has won the Doodle Brand Endowment for Outstanding Poetry of Year, I usually check out his or her (or whatever other gender happens to be pertinent) poetry on the net or at the library and I usually come away […]

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