The illimitable, silent, never-resting thing called Time, rolling, rushing on, swift, silent, like an all-embracing ocean-tide, on which we and all the universe swim like exhalations, like apparitions which are, and then are not…. – Thomas Carlyle
If those gentlemen would let me alone I should be much obliged to them. I would say, as Shakespeare would say… Sweet Friend, for Jesus sake forbear. – Thomas Carlyle
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