Years are nothing to me—they should be nothing to you. Who asked you to count them or to consider them? In the world of wild nature, time is measured by seasons only—the bird does not know how old it is—the rose tree does not count its birthdays!

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

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.

There is no work of human hands which time does not wear away and reduce to dust.

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.