“I don’t count the time.”
You say Hello and part of what you spend to say it goes to God.
There is a tax on all our simplest thoughts and common acts.
It will come to pass that a friend greets friend and there is not a sound.
Thus God subtracts bit by little bit till in the end there is nothing at all. Intend. Intend.
I feel time like you dream. Your dreams are jumbled. You can’t remember the order of your dreams, and when you recall them, the memories bend. Faces change. It’s all in puddles and ripples. That’s what time is for me.
If you knew Time as well as I do,” said the Hatter, “you wouldn’t talk about wasting IT. It’s HIM.