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

“Life is not made up of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years, but of moments. You must experience each one before you can appreciate it.”

“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?”

“We all change everyday, when the sun surfaces and when the moon looms. we all change when the seconds revolve into minutes, hours turn into days, weeks rotate into months, and when years circulate into decades. we all change through experiences and hardships. i understand I'm changing whether it's prosperous or defective. Only God knows.”

“Then I think of all the tricks, all the minutes all the hours and days and weeks and months and years waiting for me. All of it without them. And I can't breathe then, like someone's stepping on my heart, Laila. So weak I just want to collapse somewhere.”

“Moments into minutes. Minutes into hours. Hours into days. Days into years. Years into possibility. This will linger.”