No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and m — T. S. Eliot
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No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.

— T. S. Eliot
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More “Poets” Quotes

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