Quotes About Waiting

Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come.

We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in the darkness.

Why am I always the bridesmaid,Never the blushing bride?

Hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast.

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay,Watchin' the tide roll away.I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay,Wastin' time.

Tarry at Jericho until your beards be grown.

Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.

The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?

I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord.

Patience is the ability to count down before you blast off.

Jacob served seven years for Rachel; and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her.

Good things come to those who bait.

When the plane you are on is late, the plane you want to transfer to is on time.

Everything is susceptible to change, don't fear it, embrace it, after all u can't go back but there's always a new chapter of life just waiting to be written.

Scandisk is now checking your hard disk. You can start praying.

There are no thanks for a kindness, which has been delayed.

First we die, the woman says. "Then our bodies are buried. So we die two deaths." "Then in another world, folded inside the living world, we wait. We wait until everyone who knew us when we were children has died. And then the last of them dies, we finally die our third death.

The bookseller said it's in two parts, and this is the first. I thought that next year, if we keep saving, we can get the second—

Her fingers travel back to the cathedral spire. South to the Gate of Dinan. All evening she has been marching her fingers around the model, waiting for her great-uncle Etienne, who owns this house, who went out the previous night while she slept, and who has not returned. And now it is night again, another revolution of the clock, and the whole block is quiet, and she cannot sleep.

The future waited for him to keep his appointment.

Waiting is a kind of war. You simply tell yourself that you must not lose.

He waits until dark. Marie-Laure sits in the mouth of the wardrobe, the false back open, and listens to her uncle switch on the microphone and the transmitter in the attic. His mild voice speaks numbers into the garret. Then music plays, soft and low, full of cellos tonight . . .

too. Who knows when the water will go out again. Her fingers travel back to the cathedral

The city seems utterly still, as though everyone is listening, waiting for someone to slip.