The 'Net is a waste of time, and that's exactly what's right about it, which is surprising, because for a nation which has an almost evil reputation for bustle, bustle, bustle, and rush, rush, rush, we spend an enormous amount of time standing around in line in front of windows, just waiting.
Just waiting for the worms to begin to work.
Waiting... waiting as time extracts the value from our work. When these values are exhausted the pictures the words the music is forgotten. The more an artist has to give, the greater they are... they try to tell us.
While all they're asking for is more of our time.
For the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy, so whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, take it as a time to pause and reflect. For an invasion of armies can be resisted, but not an idea whose time has come.
With time and patience the mulberry leaf becomes a thread.
People go in and out of your life and constantly you are missing the opportunity to tell these people how much they mean to you. You may delay, but time will not. The one thing you can't recycle is wasted time.
For time has been transformed, and we have changed; it has advanced and set us in motion; it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration.
With time and patience, threads will dry to silk.
Until you value yourself, you won't value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it.
For time is the fire in which we burn.
For everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough and the trouble with our time is that the future is not what it used to be.
Now if an army of monkeys were strumming on typewriters, they might write all the books in the British Museum.
The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be.
With time and patience the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown
and the worms
the worms the worms never cease