In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
Thomas Carlyle
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Tomorrow Is a Long Time
(Bob Dylan)
If today was not an endless highway
If tonight was not a crooked trail
If tomorrow wasn't such a long time
then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all
Ah but only if my own true love is waitin'
Yes and if I could hear her heart a softly poundin'
only if she were lying by me
would I rest in my bed once again
I can't see my reflection in the mirror
I can't speak the sounds that show no pain
I can't hear the echoes of my footsteps
and can't remember the sound of my own name
Ah but only if my own true love is waitin'
Yes and if I could hear her heart a softly poundin'
only if she were lying by me
would I rest in my bed once again
There's beauty in the silver singin' river
There's beauty in the sunlight in the sky
But none of these, and nothing else
can steal the beauty
that I remember in my true love's eyes
Ah but only if my own true love is waitin'
Yes and if I could hear her heart a softly poundin'
only if she were lying by me
would I rest in my bed once again