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.

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.

The past is always tense and the future, perfect.

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

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