Quotes About Time

Just one small thing had changed, such a small thing really. What difference could it make, the era in which we are born?

What do we want from the past, anyway? For it to trifle with us no longer? For it to cease its surprises, its stirrings, its stings, for it to be fixed forever—for it to die? But the past is like those jellyfish that, when harmed, coil into themselves and revert to immature blobs from which they begin new lives and become, in simple terms, immortal. What can we do but look away from such painful miracles?

Is there a pill for when the image of a trumpet vine comes into your head? Will it erase it? Erase the voice saying, You should kiss me like it's good-bye? Erase the tuxedo jacket, or at least the face above it? Erase the whole nine years?

Who knows what constellation rises there, shaped like a question mark? The Question Mark, perhaps. Coming at the end of an ever-expanding cosmic doubt begun at the first keystroke of Time. If only there were another constellation: The Answer.

Strange to be almost fifty, no? I feel like I just understood how to be young." "Yes! It's like the last day in a foreign country. You finally figure out where to get coffee, and drinks, and a good steak. And then you have to leave. And you won't ever be back." "You

Because at funerals, forever is the theme of the day.

One could not withdraw the days of one's youth in retirement and throw them on the fire to warm old bones.

I miss when my future was more interesting to me than my past

It is not true that love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. Love alters all the time; it is fluid, in perceptual flux, an evolving business across a lifetime.

Rebuilding of the self in and after depression requires love, insight, work, and, most of all, time.

Absence does not so much make the heart grow fonder as give the heart time to integrate what it has not previously absorbed, time to make sense of what happened too quickly to have any meaning in the instant. This is always true. If it is in absence that people forget each other, it is also in the quiet pause of absence that, minds running in symmetry, people come to know each other; there is sometimes as much intimacy in the span of continents as in the shared hours before dawn.

Love is circumstantial; we can love anyone if need be; and losing the one we love is the singular catastrophe. Time does not heal it. Every present moment yearns for even the roughest past.

Rebuilding of the self in and after depression requires love, insight, work, and, most of all, time. Diagnosis

Even in the best of spirits, it's always been as though I wrestle with the present in a vain effort to stop its becoming the past.

Life is fraught with sorrows: no matter what we do, we will in the end die; we are, each of us, held in the solitude of an autonomous body; time passes, and what has been will never be again.

A vida é repleta de tristezas: pouco importa o que fazemos, no final todos vamos morrer; cada um de nós está preso à solidão de um corpo independente; o tempo passa e o que passou nunca voltará. A dor é a nossa primeira experiência de desamparo no mundo, e ela nunca nos deixa.

As you ripen, you'll notice that time is the weirdest thing in the world, that these surprises are relentless, and that getting older is not a stroll but an ambush.

Time doesn't heal, it just gives you other things to think about.

Keep your eye on the ridgeline, never lose sight of winter's hem. This is how you'll like to remember yourself: standing slightly apart and moving away, knowing in that last tawny rush of the leaves: what goes out there, it never comes back.

The past believed in dates. And everyone's life consisted of dates, giving life a rhythm and sense of gradation, as if from the eminence of a date one could look back and down, and see the past itself. A clear, comprehensible past, divided up into squares of events, lines of paths taken.

Women are the strength of the male nervous system. Time you took your nerves in hand Ã¢â'¬Â¦ Still, just my little joke.

them. The only trouble is that it could take a while because I'm actually feeling pretty healthy. I hear

And your own life while it's happening to you never has any atmosphere until it's a memory.

Isn't life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?