“
Clocks slay time… time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
William Faulkner
from “Time Regained” - Marcel Proust
…there is no doubt that, with this meaning, the sensitive lover of literature reanimates it and swells it with meaning until it is ready to burst, he cannot repeat it to himself without overflowing with joy, so true and beautiful does he find it-but in spite of all this he has added to it nothing, it remains merely an observation.
