Thursday thread

For some reason I’ve had these opening lines from this T.S. Eliot poem stuck in my head all day.

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyst…