Quotes About Time

My doctor gave me two weeks to live. I hope they're in August.

Pero ya no habrá tiempo de llorar. Ha terminado la hora de la ceniza para mi corazón. Hace frío sin ti, pero se vive.

Man's life is brief and transitory, Literature endures forever

As we walked past a quad bike chained to a farm gate, he remarked "It's such a pity how times have changed. You can't leave a piece of machinery out on the road any more." He seemed to have forgotten that he had just been describing a time when you couldn't leave you cattle out.

Don't forget, as busy as you may be, to quickly raise your head and cast a glance at those great silver clouds and that silent blue ocean in which they are swimming...take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day...because this day will never, ever come again! This day is a gift to you like a rose in full bloom, lying at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up and press it to your lips.

Take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day, because this day will never, ever come again! This day is a gift to you like a rose in full bloom, lying at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up and put it to your lips.

Y es raro porque, aunque pase el tiempo, el dolor de la pérdida, cuando se pone a doler, te sigue pareciendo igual de intenso.

La vida es un pequeño espacio de luz entre dos nostalgias: la de lo que aún no has vivido y la de lo que ya no vas a poder vivir. Y el momento justo de la acción es tan confuso, tan resbaladizo y tan efímero que lo desperdicias mirando con aturdimiento alrededor.

We had a saying that we worked "from can to can't," which means working from when you can see (sunup) to when you can't (sundown).

He put his fingertips lightly to either side of her chin, just on her jawline, and looked into her eyes. "Do you really imagine that is my true purpose? Time no longer matters to me all the while I can see you, hear you, and be near you.

Yes, we are sure of it. These walls enclose a world. Here is continuity spinning a web from room to room, from year to year. It is safe in this house.

She remembered him smiling, and realized that time, that great old healer, had finally accomplished its work, and now, across the years, the face of love no longer stirred up agonies of grief and bitterness. Rather, one was left feeling simply grateful. For how unimaginably empty the past would be without him to remember.

Time had lost its importance. That was one of the good things about getting old: you weren't perpetually in a hurry. All her life, Penelope had looked after other people, but now she had no one to think about but herself. There was time to stop and look, and, looking, to remember. Visions widened, like views seen from the slopes of a painfully climbed mountain, and having come so far, it seemed ridiculous not to pause and enjoy them.

The stars were impersonal. But they took human shapes and arranged themselves in orders that conveyed directions to the next life. There was no time where he was going. He'd always thought that inconceivable. For years now he'd understood that time was all at once, back and forth, upside down. As animals subject to the laws of earth, we think time is experience. But time is more a substance, like air, only of course not air. It is in fact a holy element.

And so, you see, her absence stopped time. What

His father was so very old now that he slept most of the day. He was ninety-four. When Thomas thought of his father, peace stole across his chest and covered him like sunlight.

Betty thought the latch had popped by itself until someone outside said, "Could I have a minute of your time to tell you about the Lord's plan for your soul?

Minute by minute, a day passed.

My father had bought an ugly new clock, and it was ticking again in the quiet kitchen.

You can never get enough of the ones you love, thought Thomas, rubbing his chest slowly, to vanquish the pains. "Here I have Biboon with me to this great old age, but I am greedy. I want him longer.

One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth forever.

At any rate those two, one the shadow of a shadow in the hall and the other a shadow also, an imitation of the ruthless man who'd stolen from the world with careless ease, both poised, caught in time.

I've read that certain memories put down in agitation at a vulnerable age do not extinguish with time, but engrave ever deeper as they return and return.

The piano had taken a year or more to make of woods, she knew, collected and seasoned by the craftsmen, each type destined for a different piece of the sounding board and trim. Time was in the wood. Time was in the hammers. Time was the existence of the piano. Time was the human who had voiced the piano, who had balanced the keys, shaped, hardened, softened each hammer.