Quotes About Time

Y tienes que saber que no cambiamos con el paso del tiempo; somos como flores que se abren; simplemente nos convertimos más y más en nosotros mismos.

I had scarce time to grab a few important scrolls. Desperately I sought for Ovid, whom Pandora had so loved, and for the great tragedians of Greece. Avicus reached out his arms to help me.

But the time of mourning is always the perfect time for nonsense.

We alone understand the passage of time and the value of every minute of human life. And what constitutes evil, real evil, is the taking of a single human life. Whether a man would have died tomorrow or the day after or eventually … it doesn't matter. Because if God does not exist, this life … every second of it … is all we have.

And I would see her sweet and palpable before me, a shimmering, precious creature soon to grow old, soon to die, soon to lose these moments that in their intangibility promised to us wrongly... wrongly, an immortality. As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us. When every moment, every moment must be first known and then savored.

Because if God does not exist, this life Ã¢â'¬Â¦ every second of it Ã¢â'¬Â¦ is all we have.

And I? What am I? Do I live? Or am I always walking in death? Forever in love with time?

It is the very nature of this world that all things are devoured and time is a mouth as bloody as any other.

In memory I went back to the days in Rome when I had been mortal, and there was my garden, the garden of the villa of my father, and I was walking in the soft grass and listening to the sound of the fountain, and then it seemed that all through time, the garden changed but never changed, and it was always there for me.

What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world?

Out, out, brief candle." Such comforting remembrance can turn in an instant to agony.

Why must I see him brought low like this when it had taken so many decades to cement my love for him forever?

Understand the style of garment that adorns your body, the styles of dwellings in which you spend your leisure hours, the place in which you hunt. Understand what it means to feel the passage of time! Yes, and feel all the pain of seeing things die... Of course. You are made to triumph over time, not to run from it.

Ah, so much to ponder. But not now. Now was the time for the conjugal blessing of this new abode.

Whatever you thought of the world, you should have let them have their time with it. It was their world and their time.

No knowledge can defeat him, tempered by fire and time, he is too strong for the horrors of technology or the spells of science.

Explain to me, that is, if there is time left before all the light I shall ever know winks out on me, and the Earth devours that incarnate jewel you found wanting.

Innocent. The word burned through the pleasure. In a luminous drift of figures and voices he emerged, pushing his way through the crowd; Stirling, the man, pleading with me in my mental vision, saying Innocent. There I was, the boy of that old time, and Stirling saying Innocent.

And I would see her sweet and palpable before me, a shimmering, precious creature soon to grow old, soon to die, soon to lose these moments that in their intangibility promised to us, wrongly Ã¢â'¬Â¦ wrongly, an immortality. As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us. When every moment, every moment must be first known and then savored.

Beijei suas lágrimas. Quem dera que eu fosse mesmo santo. Quem dera eu fosse o padre que estava parado junto do carro à sua espera, fingindo não ver que nos beijávamos. O que era o beijo? O beijo mortal? Beijei sua boca novamente. Um amor mortal e o tempo todo o desejo irresistível da ligação do sangue, não de sua morte, não, Meu Deus, não, apenas a ligação do sangue, o conhecimento.

Do I live? Or am I walking always in death, forever in love with time?

He was enchanted for these small moments, and patiently, I let them pass.

Wergeld, my Maker," said Thorne. "As it was in my time, I exact the wergeld or payment for my own life, which you took when you made a blood drinker. I take it through Santino's life, which I take beneath your roof.

But the name was astonishing: 'Théâtre des Vampires,' and the time noted, nine p.m.