“However, I will always remember those few hours, and the days of worry leading up to those few hours, and the years and years leading up to those days when I didn't know what it was like to have my soul wrapped inside the palm of a baby”

“Days, weeks, months, years," said the boy. "Minutes and hours and seconds. I don't know about any of those things.”

“I had a million plans. I knew what I was going to do. I had the next few years of my life all figured out.But what I didn’t know was that within a few hours all those plans would change. Ms. Know-it-all didn’t quite know it all so much then.”

“Our life is made up of time; our days are measured in hours, our pay measured by those hours, our knowledge is measured by years. We grab a few quick minutes in our busy day to have a coffee break. We rush back to our desks, we watch the clock, we live by appointments. And yet your time eventually runs out and you wonder in your heart of hearts if those seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades were being spent the best way they possibly could. In other words, if you could change anything, would you?”

“The most understandable thing in the world should be how minutes lead to hours, how hours lead to days, how days can make a year. And yet, this neat progression can still be surprising.”

“My worries always lead to dungeons; I can't imagine a worse thing than to be imprisoned for the rest of one's life, especially with so few years to enjoy what little there is.”