While I was working on my final paper I went back and re-read Eliot's Four Quartets another 12-15 times, and was completely struck by how much it had to say to me every new time I picked it up. While i had read it numerous times already for this class it had never seemed as amazing as it has recently. With each new line that I read I realize how beautiful it is and I start to get a sense of what I think Eliot is saying. While completely and disgustingly sick over the weekend I picked up my copy to try and memorize my allotted lines and of course got side tracked reading the whole poem over and over again, in doing this I suddenly started to feel very sad about graduating, graduating without understanding everything that the poem is saying. I feel unprepared and unready. When will I ever be given the chance to have incredible literature already picked out for me and then explained to me by a professor and an entire class? What if after enough years out of school working at some soul-sucking bureaucratic job I become the person who reads Nicholas Sparks and Dan Brown? And even worse considers it literature? My last reading of The Four Quartets left me feeling like a bit of an English major fraud, unsure that I would be able to enjoy Nabokov without an entire class guiding me or read poetry without a teacher picking the best ones out of the anthology for me. I have absolutely loved being an English major, honestly I picked this major for all the wrong reasons but in some twist of fate it turned out to be what I really loved, and it is my hope that the things I have learned wont be entirely lost once I leave school. So as I have started to pack up my house, deciding what will make it onto the plane with me and what will be left behind- bidding sad farewells to most of my books- I have decided that my now ratty and marked-up copy of The Four Quartets will without a doubt be moving with me. I guess even if I forget most of what I have learned as the years pass by I hope that being an English major has at least made me into the type of person who will keep reading this poem and keep looking for all the different things that it says.