Welcome to Night Vale, episode 54 - A Carnival Comes to Town

The secret to a long life lies in how acutely you perceive time.
Welcome to Night Vale.

Welcome to Night Vale, episode 21 - A Memory of Europe

Here is the truth of nostalgia: we don't feel it for who we were, but who we weren't. We feel it for all the possibilities that were open to us, but that we didn't take. Time is like wax, dripping from a candle flame. In the moment, it is molten and falling, with the capability to transform into any shape. Then the moment passes, and the wax hits the table top and solidifies into the shape it will always be. It becomes the past, a solid single record of what happened, still holding in its wild curves and contours the potential of every shape it could have held. [...] 'What's the point?' you ask. 'Why bother?' you say. 'Oh, Cecil,' you cry. 'Oh, Cecil.' But then you remember - I remember! - that we are even now in another bit of molten wax. We are in a moment that is still falling, still volatile, and we will never be anywhere else. We will always be in that most dangerous, most exciting, most possible time of all: the Now.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

There will be time, there will be time
[…]
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

The Sound and the Fury

Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of planets.[...] The grave hopeless sound of all voiceless misery under the sun.

Poi Ben gemette di nuovo, disperato e prolungato. Non era niente. Solo un urlo. Sarebbe potuto essere tutto il tempo e l’ingiustizia e la tristezza resi vocali per un istante da una congiunzione di pianeti.[...] Il suono mesto e disperato di tutte le miserie senza voce sotto il sole.

(Pagine 244 e 269)