Perhaps my favorite sentence in all of
T.S. Eliot's poetry.
I can't read this poem without a glass of water around - I really can't. The images of dryness and sterility are meant to refer to a spiritual and moral wasteland, one where there is no heaven or hell, right or wrong. But sometimes all they do is make me thirsty.
For me, sterility is almost scarier than death. Well, in a way, it is death. Our fear of mortality is more of a fear of nothingness when it comes down to it.
Fear in a handful of dust. That's all it is. But when I read it I almost want to cry.