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

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

The appointed thing comes at the appointed time in the appointed way.

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

They say, “We only have the life of this world. We die and we live, and nothing destroys us but time.” Yet, not true knowledge have they of this—only belief.

This is Year Zero.

The best way to fill time is to waste it.

Without music to decorate it, time is just a bunch of boring production deadlines or dates by which bills must be paid.

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.

Our allotted time is the passing of a shadow.

The past is always tense and the future, perfect.

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