Quotes About Time

It was terrible to think that he was in this city, possibly very nearby, but I couldn't see him or talk to him because he didn't love me. I couldn't be with him for one minute, not even for the weird leftover hours that nobody else wanted, like from one to three a.m. on a Wednesday.

Of course, it wasn't possible to account for all the time. By the time you had written down what time it was, it was already later than it had been.

I'm 26," she said, as if it were bad news she had received only recently. "It isn't the age I feel like." "What age do you feel like?" "Nineteen, like you." But to me, 19 still felt old and somehow alien to who I was. It occurred to me that it might take more than a year, maybe as many as seven years, to learn to feel 19.

I went on to the balcony, lit a cigarette, and looked at the museum, wondering whether it would still be there in a thousand years. When would it not be there anymore?

But to me it seemed that one had always been midway the journey of our life, and would be maybe right up until the moment of death.

For a moment it felt like we weren't in the Danube at all but in the river of time, and everyone was at a different point, though in another sense we were all here at once.

I had often flipped through a calendar wondering on which of the 366 days (counting February 29) I would die, but it had never once occurred to me to wonder whether I had already met the first person I would have sex with.

Back in Cambridge, the bank clock read 8:40. We went to Ivan's dining hall. The dining halls were open late for exam period. At a table near the door, two students were slumped over their books, either asleep or murdered.

But, to me, nineteen still felt old and somehow alien to who I was. It occurred to me that it might take more than a year–maybe as many as seven years–to learn to feel nineteen.

In fact I had no historical consciousness in those days, and no interest in acquiring one. It struck me as narrow-minded to privilege historical events, simply because things happened to have worked out that way. Why be a slave to the arbitrary truth? I didn't care about truth; I cared about beauty. It took me many years – it took the experience of lived time – to realize that they really are the same thing.

Time and distance have a way of playing tricks with your best intentions.

Money spent, will never out value spent time.

One of these days, will become a this day. And that day, will be the preeminent of days to come.

She stared at me, like day stares at an hourglass and night, the sand trickling through time; the sea disappearing to eyes in the dark. But I hear her waves coming in, as she whispers one last chance goodbye.

So many fear death—spending their precious waking hours discussing it—while failing to notice that deep sleep is no different. It's as if they don't hear Mother Nature telling them not to worry every day.

It's not words, but years we should be editing. Remember: time spent on bad art is a form of redundancy, doing the same thing twice is a form of tautology, and wasting precious moments complaining about life is a form of pleonasm. We should all learn to live our lives concisely.

The price of maturity is exorbitant these days. Paying for wisdom with money is one thing, but when time becomes the currency, it's your life at stake.

The psyche exists (quite happily, one might add) on an entirely different plane than the body: whereas the body is inextricably bound to time, degrading day-by-day on its 85-year death trek, the psyche is, indeed, ageless, blending its memories into a single unit. It simply collects information—and "maturing" is really nothing more than a judgement of the quality of that information.

We cannot escape the longing, no matter what life we choose. We're either longing for people, places or times gone by, which are essentially the same things: memories. And, whether or not we travel, the older we get, the more memories we collect. Nostalgia is simply the result of aging and liking the life you've lived. Be happy you can feel it—it's a good sign.

Having served for nearly half a century in the House of Commons, I now want more time to devote to politics and more freedom to do so.

Bohm's solution was simple and logical. We have been wrongly interpreting the nature of matter and the universe itself. The message never travelled across space and time at all because both these constructs are an illusion brought about by the brain. In fact the two particles were really one particle all the time and as such they both 'knew' what was happening to each of them.

It is difficult to reconcile oneself to the view that a single life determines our lot. We seem to come toward the end of our life just when we begin to get some insight.

Grief does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature.

There is, then, a logical priority about the arrangements, and logic has nothing to do with time.