Quotes About Time

My Food Network shows, 'Emeril Live' and 'Essence of Emeril ' are not in production right now, but I wouldn't say that I'm necessarily leaving Food Network. I have a lot of television still in me. I enjoy teaching people, so it's just a matter of time before I do something new.

I've always done food that can work in a set time frame. The message I'm trying to get across is, it doesn't have to take three days to do this. With planning, you can do a lot and really have quality food every day.

Each land in the world produces its own men individually bad - and, in time, other bad men who kill them for the greater good.

What I know at sixty, I knew as well at twenty. Forty years of a long, a superfluous, labor of verification.

This very second has vanished forever, lost in the anonymous mass of the irrevocable. It will never return. I suffer from this, and I do not. Everything is unique—and insignificant.

Suffering makes you live time in detail, moment after moment. Which is to say that it exists for you: over the others, the ones who don't suffer, time flows, so that they don't live in time, in fact they never have.

There was a time when time did not yet exist. … The rejection of birth is nothing but the nostalgia for this time before time.

Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

Oamenii la care ne gîndim dintr-o dat?, f?r? motiv aparent, sînt cei care ne-au flatat ori ne-au umilit într-un moment sau altul al existenÅ£ei noastre. Sînt singurii de care ne amintim dup? ani, chiar ÅŸi atunci cînd au disp?rut de tot din orizontul nostru.

I do nothing, granted. But I see the hours pass—which is better than trying to fill them.

Dragostea fiind o întîlnire dureroasa si paradoxala a fericirii cu disperarea, el e prea neîncapator excesului ei inuman. De aceea, de cîte ori te trezesti din iubire, pare ca ti-a putrezit timpul prin nu mai stiu ce inima.

Three in the morning. I realize this second, then this one, then the next: I draw up the balance sheet for each minute. And why all this? Because I was born. It is a special type of sleeplessness that produces the indictment of birth.

Even in childhood I watched the hours flow, independent of any reference, any action, any event, the disjunction of time from what was not itself, its autonomous existence, its special status, its empire, its tyranny. I remember quite clearly that afternoon when, for the first time, confronting the empty universe, I was no more than a passage of moments reluctant to go on playing their proper parts. Time was coming unstuck from being—at my expense.

Fiecare clip? este o groap?, neîndestul?tor de adânc?.

Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: Something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of some day meeting yourself again.

If death is as horrible as is claimed, how is it that after the passage of a certain period of time we consider happy any being, friend or enemy, who has ceased to live?

Cu cât înaintezi în via??, îÅ£i dai seama c? nimic nu înveÅ£i, ci regresezi în amintire. Este ca ÅŸi cum am imita o lume pe care am tr?it-o cândva.

Time, fertile in resources, more inventive and more charitable than we think, possesses a remarkable capacity to help us out, to afford us at any hour of the day some new humiliation.

Each time I have a lapse of memory, I think of the anguish which must afflict those who know they no longer remember anything. But something tells me that after a certain time a secret joy possesses them, a joy they would not agree to trade for any of their memories, even the most stirring. …

Every phenomenon is a corrupt version of another, larger phenomenon: time, a disease of eternity; history, a disease of time; life, again, a disease of matter. Then what is normal, what is healthy? Eternity? Which itself is only an infirmity of God.

Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.

În tristete, totul are doua fete. Nu poti fi nici în iad si nici în rai, nici în viata si nici în moarte, nici fericit si nici nefericit. Un plîns fara lacrimi, un echivoc fara sfîrsit. Caci nu te izgoneste ea în aceeasi masura din aceasta lume, ca si din cealalta? Esti trist de totdeauna, nu de acum. Si acest totdeauna e toata lumea înainte de nasterea ta. Nu-i tristetea amintirea vremii în care n-am fost?

De ce în umbra lor infinitul ne pare aproape? Fiindca în preajma femeii nu mai exista timp.