The real me

We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

T.S. Elliot


Morning at the Window

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.

T.S Elliot




I carry your heart with me,
I carry your heart with me,
I carry it in my heart,
I am never without it,
anywhere I go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling,
I fear No fate, for you are my fate, my sweet,
I want No world, for beautiful you are my world, my true.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud,
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide.
And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart,
I carry it in my heart.

(E.E. Cummings)