"We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest;
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins.
Life's but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things - God.
The dead have all the glory of the world."
-Philip James Bailey
What a great poem and a perfect reminder that time is one of those funny (strange funny) things. You can squander time so easily or you can make the moments count.
"Time waits for no man," "time is of the essence," and "time flies when you're having fun" are just a few of the umpteen phrases that remind us that the clock keeps ticking along.
The poem reminds me that time isn't everything nor is it a good way to measure. In Mansfield Park, Jane Austen writes: "Oh! Do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch."
