Another Jorge Luis Borges. This one is from the end of the prologue to Labyrinths:
Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.
Just as humans occupy physical space, and it’s thus impossible to conceptualize a human without the concept of physical space — time is also integral to who we are.