A Hundred Indecisions

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 of a toast and tea.

T.S Eliot (The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)