A moment of torture feels like an eternity, while an eternity of joy passes in a moment. Perhaps time is naught but an illusion.

Through sheer volume of passing days you will travel a great distance in your lifetime. Imagine where you might stand if your footsteps steered toward a single goal.

Time is an imp—a pesky, little, hellish troll that hastens the clock when I smile but then delays the passing of minutes when I frown.