Quotes About Waiting

I'm awake," Clay muttered. He buried his head under his talons. "I'm just waiting until Glory and Tsunami stop fighting. I was dreaming about sheep and buffalo and bears. They were all on the table in front of me and I had to decide which to eat first. Oh, and they

sure she's nearly ready," said Queen Coral. "Years. Lots more years,

the first time in forever.

Which would be unfortunate, both because I quite like you, and because then I might have to wait another thousand years to be rescued.

That's life you know? It is all one big waiting room. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. And then, like you, sometimes it's great.

decisions never seemed to get made; discussion were slow and uninteresting, with few real exchanges; and everyone seemed to be desperately waiting for each meeting to end.

Killick,' he cried, folding and sealing it. 'That's for the post. Is the Doctor ready?' 'Ready and waiting these fourteen minutes,' said Stephen in a loud, sour voice. 'What a wretched tedious slow hand you are with a pen, upon my soul. Scratch-scratch, gasp-gasp. You might have written the Iliad in half the time, and a commentary upon it, too.

how could any young man merely sit back and wait for divine justice to take its course? It was asking the impossible.

When they had gone the Moungari fell silent, to wait through the cold hours for the sun that would bring first warmth, then heat, thirst, fire, visions. The next night he did not know where he was, did not feel the cold. The wind blew dust along the ground into his mouth as he sang.

What words are there to tell how long a night can be?

Judith hated nostalgia. It was just the waiting room for death.

they're saving perfection for us in the next life.

You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

I remember one party when we seemed to be absolutely stranded. Perhaps that was symbolic, Mr Turner. I mean everyone else gone and just Tusker and me, peering out into the dark waiting for transport that never turned up.

Dropping me back at San Dario Avenue, which was the road to the international bridge, he said, "You should leave." "Thanks." But it was not easy. The entire walkway on the bridge was filled with people, all of them Mexican, obviously with visas or papers, headed toward the door with the sign US IMMIGRATION—not shuffling toward the door, not moving, but just waiting

I had done enough traveling to know that half of travel was delay or nuisance

My idea was that I would have lunch in Mexicali and hurry back to Calexico, but this line of people was daunting, moving so slowly that I decided to skip lunch and just look.

I had slipped into Mexico in a matter of minutes; returning, it took more than two hours in a line of uncomplaining Mexicans

If you are thoroughly sick of being kept waiting at home or at work, travel is perfect: let other people wait for a change. Travel is a sort of revenge for having been put on hold, having to leave messages on answering machines, not knowing your party's extension, being kept waiting all your working life—the homebound writer's irritants. Being kept waiting is the human condition.

Who pities those who wait? They are easily recognized: by their gentleness, by their falsely attentive looks—attentive, yes, but to something other than what they are looking at—by their absentmindedness.

Quién se apiada del que espera? Se le reconoce fácilmente: por su mansedumbre, por su mirada atenta, pero, con una atención falsa, atentos a otra cosa que lo que están mirando: a la ausencia.

Wait. This was the first lesson I had learned about love. The day drags along, you make thousands of plans, you imagine every possible conversation, you promise to change your behavior in certain ways -- and you feel more and more anxious until your loved one arrives. But by then, you don't know what to say. The hours of waiting have been transformed into tension, the tension has become fear, and the fear makes you embarrassed about showing affection.

A rose dreams of enjoying the company of bees, but none appears. The sun asks: "Aren't you tired of waiting?" "Yes," answers the rose, "but if I close my petals, I will wither and die.

Love, too, was just a question of time