For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

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.

Time’s ruins build eternity’s mansions.

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

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