The past grows gradually around one, like a placenta for dying.

I’ve been on a calendar, but never on time.

The best way to fill time is to waste it.

The celestial machine is to be likened not to a divine organism but rather to a clockwork.

Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.

There is no work of human hands which time does not wear away and reduce to dust.

Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its brevity.

We should not say that one man’s hour is worth another man’s hour, but rather that one man during an hour is worth just as much as another man during an hour. Time is everything, man is nothing; he is, at most, time’s carcass.

No preacher is listened to but time, which gives us the same train and turn of thought that elder people have in vain tried to put into our heads before.

A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.

Thou art not to learn the humors and tricks of that old bald cheater, time.

My stern chase after time is, to borrow a simile from Tom Paine, like the race of a man with a wooden leg after a horse.

If both what is before and what is after are in this same “now,” things which happened ten thousand years ago would be simultaneous with what has happened today, and nothing would be before or after anything else.