End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.
Time perfects all living beings as well as kills them; it alone is awake when all others are asleep. Time is insurmountable.
Time is the silent, never-resting thing ... rolling, rushing on, swift, silent, like an all-embracing oceantide, on which we and all the universe swim.
Eternity bids thee to forget.
We each owe a death, there are no exceptions, I know that, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long.
Blood of the world, time staunchless flows; The wound is mortal and is mine.
Time rolls his ceaseless course.
Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.
