Quote #44

Time is a dream, he thinks, a destroying dream; It lays great cities in dust, it fills the seas; It covers the face of beauty, and tumbles walls. Where was the woman he loved? Where was his youth? Where was the dream that burned his brain like fire? Even a dream grows grey at last and falls.

More from Conrad Aiken

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  2. Death is a meeting place of sea and sea.
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  5. His thoughts were blown and scattered like leaves; He thought of the pail . . . Why, then, was it forgotten? Because he would not need it?
  6. 'One white rose . . . or is it pink, to-day?' They pause and smile, not caring what they say, If only they may talk. The crowd flows past t…
  7. Was forty, then, too old for work like this? Why should it be? He'd never been afraid- His eye was sure, his hand was steady . . . But drea…
  8. Two lovers move in the crowd like a link of music, We press upon them, we hold them, and let them pass; A chord of music strikes us and str…

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