Quotes About Time

But time lessens all extremes, & reduces them to mediums & unconcern.

Each moment of the happy lover's hour is worth an age of dull and common life.

Il est grand temps de rallumer les étoiles

The air was calm and insects had not yet risen off the water, that crisp time of morning before the sun strikes, when it is still cool enough to work out solutions to sticky problems.

I remember lying down for a nap one day at about 4:00 and walking up at 11:00 the next morning.

As it was he had moods and depressions which might last for weeks. And of these there is ample evidence in diary. The man with the nerves gets things done but sometimes he has a terrible time in doing them. " Written about Scott in Chapter 6

A woman can hide her love for 40 years, but her disgust and anger not for one day

If one's honest about it, spending time in a car with children is pretty ghastly.

Four things come not back -- the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the neglected opportunity.

Bruises heal more quickly than emotional scars do.

And here face downward in the sunTo feel how swift how secretlyThe shadow of the night comes on.

There is no dusk to be, There is no dawn that was, Only there's now, and now, And the wind in the grass.

And here face down beneath the sun And here upon earth's noonward height To feel the always coming on The always rising of the night

When one expects to go on "forever" as one does in one's youth or even middle age, horizons are merely limits, not yet ends. It is when one first sees the horizon as an end that one first begins to see.

I'm a firm believer the the first two tenets of effective child-rearing boil down to "spend a lot of time with your children" and "cherish them," because, one, they need you when they're growing, and, two, they're going to be up and gone before you realize it.

Love is the master of our lives, And, e'en though happy subjects we, We're governed by his scepter strong Through time and through eternity.

We grasp at Time, but cannot hold One minute of his treasured hour; He tarries not, though oft we pray That he will rest in youth's bright bower.

Tomorrow gives a beck'ning hand-- I turn my face away; I'll not invite her to my home-- I only love Today.

We're ever making plans for life, But seldom plans for death, Though death we know must come to us, And life is but a breath.

Luxury is an ancient notion. There was once a Chinese mandarin who had himself wakened three times every morning simply for the pleasure of being told it was not yet time to get up.

The past is a chatty companion, I can tell you.

The hours must be endured and those who cannot do so in life will most surely do so in death. You say you cannot face them? Life's joys and pains both? You shall find them waiting for you, a world of ignored moments there to be explored. Then shall you know how long an hour can be, shall feel the awful depth and restlessness of even a single day, and all the days you fled from life while you were alive.

Or maybe a ghost was only a thing that endures, like the furnishings of this room, like the chairs or table; a little worse for wear, but still here because someone cherished it, or because it was made of such hardy stuff that time couldn't wear it down fast enough.

For when we read, don't we summon the past into the present? Hold out our hand and invite an author to sit with us for a time?