*

...

and indeed there will be time

for the yellow smoke that slides along the street

rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

there will be time, there will be time

to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

there will be time to murder and create,

and time for all the works and days of hands

that lift and drop a question on your plate;

time for you and time for me,

and time yet for a hundred indecisions,

and for a hundred visions and revisions,

before the taking a toast and tea."

...

 

excerpt from "the love song of j. alfred prufrock"- T.S. Elliot.

 

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