Tuesday, January 10, 2012

excerpt from "the love song of j. alfred prufrock"

For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
- T.S. Eliot