ABSTRACT
We all live and work in time, but no one knows just what it is. References to and about time are legion. Few words are used so often and so imprecisely. Some picture time as noble and precious—an image of eternity, our only comforter, the great physician (it heals all wounds and wounds all heels), the soul of the world. The “corridors of time” are mythic, always changing, like a fleeting river, a winged chariot, a dream. The moving finger writes, and we can’t change a single word. Perhaps it isn’t moving but flying— a bird on the wing.
