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.

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

In time history must become a fairy tale—it will become again what it was in the beginning.

The best way to fill time is to waste it.

 Do not lessen the time of following desire, for the wasting of time is an abomination to the spirit.

We wish away whole years, and travel through time as through a country filled with many wild and empty wastes, which we would fain hurry over, that we may arrive at those several little settlements or imaginary points of rest which are dispersed up and down in it.

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.

Time rushes toward us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

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

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

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

This is Year Zero.

Time is a veil interposed between God and ourselves, as our eyelid is between our eye and the light.