Our allotted time is the passing of a shadow.

The best way to fill time is to waste it.

Years are nothing to me—they should be nothing to you. Who asked you to count them or to consider them? In the world of wild nature, time is measured by seasons only—the bird does not know how old it is—the rose tree does not count its birthdays!

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.

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

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

Time’s ruins build eternity’s mansions.

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

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

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

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

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

This is Year Zero.