He is late at meals, late at work, dawdles on the street, loses his train, misses his appointments, and dawdles at his store until the banks are closed.

Everybody he meets suffers more or less from his malady, for dawdling becomes practically a disease.
"You will never find time for anything," said Charles Buxton; "if you want time you must make it." The best work we ever do is that which we do now, and can never repeat.
"Too late," is the curse of the unsuccessful, who forget that "one to-day is worth two to-morrows." Time accepts no sacrifice; it admits of neither redemption nor atonement.

_It is the true avenger._ Your enemy may become your friend,--your injurer may do you justice,--but Time is inexorable, and has no mercy.
Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio: Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings.
'Tis of more worth than kingdoms! far more precious Than all the crimson treasures of life's fountain.
O! let it not elude thy grasp; but, like The good old patriarch upon record, Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee.
-- NATHANIEL COTTON..