The appointed thing comes at the appointed time in the appointed way.

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 best way to fill time is to waste it.

Time, when it is left to itself and no definite demands are made on it, cannot be trusted to move at any recognized pace. Usually it loiters, but just when one has come to count upon its slowness, it may suddenly break into a wild irrational gallop.

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.