Some days speed by, while others drag on and on... There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason. Perhaps it's just what's happening in life at the time.

Philip Larkin once wrote: "What are days for? / Days are where we live. / They come, they wake us / Time and time over." What have writers said about the days?

• Days - Ralph Waldo Emerson
• Past Days - Anne Brontë
• Halcyon Days - Walt Whitman
• The Light of Other Days - Thomas Moore

Is your day speeding by, or slinking along at a snail's pace?