"I wasted time, and now doth time waste me"

Shakespeare’s phrase lays bare the relentless and reciprocal nature of time. The speaker acknowledges having squandered opportunities, moments, or years, recognizing now the consequences of those choices. Regret saturates the sentiment: the individual feels the sting of having misused the very fabric of life, time itself. Now, as the present slips inexorably forward, time seems to turn the tables, exacting its own toll. The sense of helplessness is acute; just as the speaker once idly and carelessly let time slip away, now he is the plaything of time’s passage, at its mercy, forced to endure the consequences wrought by delay or inaction.

There’s an implicit realization of mortality and the fleeting nature of existence. Human agency appears limited; control over time is ultimately an illusion. What once seemed an infinite resource is exposed as perilously finite. The line draws on personification, portraying time almost as a sentient force, capable of “wasting” or destroying the one who once wasted it. This notion invites readers to reflect on the balance between action and procrastination, underscoring that opportunities lost are seldom returned. Time does not simply move on; it “wastes” by eroding youth, potential, and even hopes, much as it wears away stone or erases memory.

There is also a symmetry: the actions of the past return, mirrored but magnified, in the relentless onward march of time. Regret, therefore, is not a passive emotion but a dynamic force. The phrase serves as both a confession and a warning: in taking time for granted, one risks finding the tables turned, gradually or suddenly overtaken by the very thing once ignored. Its enduring resonance lies in the universality of this struggle, how every person, at some juncture, recognizes the inescapable cost of time misused and the inexorable nature of time itself.