Wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation; and let Father Time shake his glass.
I would not change, dear Father Time, with any of my sisters.
"She is beautiful only to those who love her," said Father Time.
The hand of that wonderful husbandman, Father Time, has smoothed it all out.
While you delay along the trail, Father Time pauses to lean upon his scythe.
Father Time replied calmly: "I have laid my hand on your shoulder!"
And Father Time, after all, has to hand us something to make up for so mercilessly permitting 92 us to grow old.
Rodolphe curled and oiled; he who has not so much as Father Time.
He solemnly lifted his hand, and Father Time, walking backward, disappeared in the forest.
"Your pardon," he answered gently—he had a gentle way with him, had Father Time.