I can't read it without getting tingles.

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. Excerpt, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot