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[ Also see Age Antiquity Delay Eternity Expectation Forgetfulness Future Futurity Haste Hours Idleness Impatience Late Leisure Memory Months Opportunity Past Present Procrastination Ruins Speed Sun Dial Mottoes Tardiness Today Tomorrow Years Yesterday ]

O, your desert speaks loud, and I should wrong it
  To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
    When it deserves with characters of brass
      A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time
        And razure of oblivion.
      - William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure
         (Vincentio, the Duke at V, i)

Time goes on crutches till Love have all his rites.
      - William Shakespeare,
        Much Ado About Nothing
         (Claudio at II, i)

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
      - William Shakespeare,
        Othello the Moor of Venice
         (Iago at II, iii)

Whereby I see that Time's the king of men;
  He's both their parent, and he is their grave,
    And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
      - William Shakespeare,
        Pericles Prince of Tyre
         (Pericles at II, iii)

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
  And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
    Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
      And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
        And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
          Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
      - William Shakespeare, Sonnet LX

O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
  Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days,
    When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
      Nor gates of steel so strong but Time decays?
        O fearful meditation: where, alack,
          Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
            Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
              Or who his spoil or beauty can forbid?
      - William Shakespeare, Sonnet LXV

Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
  My love shall in my verse ever live young.
      - William Shakespeare, Sonnet XIX

There's a time for all things.
      - William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors
         (Antipholus of Syracuse at II, ii)

For beauty, wit,
  High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service,
    Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
      To envious and calumniating time.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The History of Troilus and Cressida
         (Ulysses at III, iii)

Then what they do in present,
  Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
    For time is like a fashionable host,
      That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand,
        And with arms outstretched, as he would fly,
          Grasps in the comer. The welcome ever smiles,
            And farewell goes out sighing.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The History of Troilus and Cressida
         (Ulysses at III, iii)

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
  Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
    A great-sized monster of ingratitudes.
      Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured
        As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
          As done.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The History of Troilus and Cressida
         (Ulysses at III, iii)

The end crowns all,
  And that old common arbitrator, Time,
    Will one day end it.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The History of Troilus and Cressida
         (Hector at IV, v)

We should hold day with the Antipodes
  If you would walk in absence of the sun.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The Merchant of Venice
         (Bassanio at V, i)

O, call back yesterday, did time return,
  And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
    To-day, to-day, unhappy day too late,
      O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;
        For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
          Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The Tragedy of King Richard the Second
         (Salisbury at III, ii)

Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
      - William Shakespeare,
        The Two Gentlemen of Verona
         (Proteus at III, i)

And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
      - William Shakespeare,
        Twelfth Night, or, What You Will
         (Clown at V, i)

Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
  Beauty within itself should not be wasted.
    Fair flowers that are not gath'red in their prime
      Rot and consume themselves in little time.
      - William Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis
         (l. 129)

Time is like money; the less we have of it to spare, the further we make it go.
      - Henry Wheeler Shaw (used pseudonyms Josh Billings and Uncle Esek)

Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow claspest the limits of mortality.
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley

The flood of time is rolling on;
  We stand upon its brink, whilst they are gone
    To glide in peace down death's mysterious stream.
      Have ye done well?
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley, Revolt of Islam
         (canto XII, st. 27)

Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
  Ocean of Time, whose water of deep woe
    Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
      Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
        Claspest the limits of mortality!
          And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
            Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore,
              Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
                Who shall put forth on thee,
                  Unfathomable sea?
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley, Time

As nothing truly valuable can be attained without industry, so there can be no persevering industry without a deep sense of the value of time.
      - Lydia Huntley Sigourney

Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance or medicine; but lost time is gone forever.
      - Samuel Smiles

Every day travels toward death; the last only arrives at it.
      - Alexander Smith

For time would, with us, 'stead of sand,
  Put filings of steel in his glass,
    To dry up the blots of his hand,
      And spangle life's page as they pass.
        Since all flesh is grass ere 'tis hay,
          O may I in clover lie snug,
            And when old Time mow me away,
              Be stacked with defunct Land Mugg!
      - Horace Smith and James Smith,
        Rejected Addresses--The Beautiful Incendiary, by the Hon. W.S.

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