The best way to fill time is to waste it.

Nothing puzzles me more than time and space, and yet nothing puzzles me less, for I never think about them.

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

Thou art not to learn the humors and tricks of that old bald cheater, time.

Our allotted time is the passing of a shadow.

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

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!

Time is a veil interposed between God and ourselves, as our eyelid is between our eye and the light.

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

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

If both what is before and what is after are in this same “now,” things which happened ten thousand years ago would be simultaneous with what has happened today, and nothing would be before or after anything else.

Time’s ruins build eternity’s mansions.

Time rushes toward us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.