Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past, even while we attempt to define it.
Our linear concept of time means nothing to nature.
Only when the clock stops does time come to life
But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.
The aesthetic discussion of photography is dominated by the concept of time. Photographs appear as devices stopping time and preserving fragments of the past, like flies in amber.
Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day. Rich people can't buy more hours. Scientists can't invent new minutes. And you can't save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you've wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow.
Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.
What then is time? If no one asks me, I know what it is. If I wish to explain it to him who asks, I do not know.
The concept of time shuts off eternity.
Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them.
Time goes, you say? Ah, no! alas, time stays, we go.
Time is a brisk wind, for each hour it brings something new... but who can understand and measure its sharp breath, its mystery and its design?
For time is the longest distance between two places.
Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.
Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes in a day.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.
Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.
There is one kind of robber whom the law does not strike at, and who steals what is most precious to men: time.
It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
Much may be done in those little shreds and patches of time which every day produces, and which most men throw away.
The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked.
As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.
Time, the cradle of hope.... Wisdom walks before it, opportunity with it, and repentance behind it: he that has made it his friend will have little to fear from his enemies, but he that has made it his enemy will have little to hope from his friends.
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