With the magnificence of eternity before us, let time, with all its fluctuations, dwindle into its own littleness.

Silence is as deep as eternity; speech, shallow as time.

I had a sneaking suspicion that time was not constant, but I guess I could never prove it. I suppose it didn’t really matter. I even had a theory that time didn’t go in straight line at all. I knew I was no Albert Einstein, but I had the sneaking suspicion that everything had happened, was happening, or would happen was really happening all the time. There was no past, present, and future. Everything was going on all at once and forever. If that was true, then each moment was eternity.

Time is an illusion.

time is not the stable moving-staircase that prosemen have for centuries pretended it to be, but an unaccountable wibble-wobble

This speck of life in time's great wilderness This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities!