Time’s violence rends the soul; by the rent eternity enters.

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

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.

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

This is Year Zero.