What might have been and what has been point to one end, which is always present (221/366)

Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose-garden. My words echo

Thus, in your mind.

But to what purpose

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves

I do not know.

 

—TS Eliot

 

L on B

 

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#45

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