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

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

Nothing puzzles me more than time and space, and yet nothing puzzles me less, for I never think about them.

The past is always tense and the future, perfect.

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