The thing I lose patience with the most is the clock. Its hands move too fast.

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

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

There is one kind of robber whom the law does not strike at, and who steals what is most precious to men: time.

Space I can recover. Time, never.

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