After all, tomorrow is another day.
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
Time is wealth, and unlike money when it is gone you cannot replace it.
She felt worthless and hollow. There was no hope of fixing this. And when hope is gone, time is punishment.
When hope is gone, time is punishment.
Driving home, it's all I can do to keep from crying. Time's come, time's gone, time's never returning, I say to myself. What's here in front of me is all I've got, I decide, and as I drive my car through the blowing snow it doesn't seem like much, except for the kindness that I've just exchanged with an old lady, so I concentrate on that.
We cannot take one step in geology without drawing upon the fathomless stores of by-gone time.
It will startle you to see what slaves we are to by-gone times-to Death, if we give the matter the right word! ... We read in Dead Men's books! We laugh at Dead Men's jokes, and cry at Dead Men's pathos! . . . Whatever we seek to do, of our own free motion, a Dead Man's icy hand obstructs us!
or simply:
