T. S. Eliot

My life is light, waiting for the death wind, Like a feather on the back of my hand.

My life is light, waiting for the death wind, Like a feather on the back of my hand.

All cases are unique and very similar to others.

All cases are unique and very similar to others.

...the mind is conscious, but conscious of nothing - I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope read more

...the mind is conscious, but conscious of nothing - I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: so the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.