When I was alive, I believed – as you do – that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I Said “one o’clock” as though I could see it, and “Monday” as though I could find it on the map… Like everyone else, I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes, weekends and New Year’s Days, and I never went outside until I died, because there was no other door. Now I know that I could have walked through the walls.
Peter Beagle, in The Last Unicorn
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