The past is always tense and the future, perfect.

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

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.

They say, “We only have the life of this world. We die and we live, and nothing destroys us but time.” Yet, not true knowledge have they of this—only belief.

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