It was previously revealed that Prufrock had a sour love life to which he was marked as alone in life. It goes much deeper than that. LET us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky; The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels; The yellow fog [...]
Filed under: alone, J. Alfred Prufrock, life, T. S. Eliot | 9 Comments »
