Every loss which we incur leaves behind it vexation in the memory, save the greatest loss of all, that is, death, which annihilates the memory, together with life.

Whatever shall we do in that remote spot? Well, we will write our memoirs. Work is the scythe of time.

Time passes swiftly, but is it not joyous to see how great and growing is the treasure we have gathered together, amid the storms and stresses of so many eventful and to millions tragic and terrible years?

Reason, too late perhaps, may convince you of the folly of misspending time.

Well, I don't even know how to drive in this life, so I'm pretty far from ever having the life of being a stuntdouble. I liked- I had an Evil Knievel doll when i was a kid, that's about it!

Time is really the only capital that any human being has, and the only thing he can't afford to lose.