Time is the substance from which I am made. Time is a river which carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
(Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), Argentinian author. "A New Refutation of Time," Labyrinths (1964).)
Warmest climes but nurse the cruelest fangs: the tiger of Bengal crouches in spiced groves of ceaseless verdure. Skies the most effulgent but basket the deadliest thunders: gorgeous Cuba knows tornadoes that never swept tame northern lands.
(Herman Melville (1819-1891), U.S. author. Moby-Dick, ch. 119 (1851).)