Time is just something that we assign. You know, past, present, it’s just all arbitrary. Most Native Americans, they don’t think of time as linear; in time, out of time, I never have enough time, circular time, the Stevens wheel. All moments are happening all the time.
Robin Green and Mitchell Burgess, Northern Exposure, Hello, I Love You, 1994
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No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change.
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
And rather make them born to our desire
Than think that we before have heard them told.
Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wond’ring at the present, nor the past,
For thy records, and what we see doth lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste:
This I do vow and this shall ever be:
I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 123