Quotes About Time

was asked, 'Can you bring six million Jews to Palestine?' I replied, 'No.' . . . The old ones will pass. They will bear their fate or they will not. They were dust, economic and moral dust in a cruel world. . . . Only a branch shall survive. . . . They had to accept it . . . If they feel and suffer they will find the way—beachareth hajamin—in the fullness of time . . . I pray that we may preserve our national unity, for it is all we have.

Many parents aren't all that accustomed to being patient and present for their kids anymore, if only because they're simply not given the opportunity to be patient and present. Jobs get in the way. School gets in the way. After-school activities get in the way. As I have learned—as I am still learning—patience and presence are muscles that must be developed and exercised regularly.

The only thing a golfer needs is more daylight.

As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.

I been worryin' that my time is a little unclear I been worryin' that I'm losing the one's I hold dear I been worryin' that we all live our lives in the confines of fear "Oh my ghost came by Said who do you love the most Who you wanna call before you die Oh hey heaven is the place we know Heaven is the arms that hold us Long before we go

Most of us spend our lives as if we had another one in the bank.

It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.

What a deal of cold business doth a man misspend the better of life in!—in scattering compliments, tendering visits, gathering and venting news, following feasts and plays, making a little winter love in a dark corner.

Come my Celia, let us prove,While we can, the sports of love;Time will not be ours forever,He at length our good will sever.Spend not then his gifts in vain;Suns that set may rise again,But if once we lose this light,'Tis with us perpetual night.

As sure as death.

Good men are the stars, the planets of the ages wherein they live, and illustrate the times

Poor wretches! I rather pity their folly and indiscretion, than their loss of time and money; for these may be recovered by industry: but to be a fool born is a disease incurable.

I had the endless day, months and months of endless days, and yet my return date bounded this sense of boundlessness, kept it from becoming threatening.

nothing in the world, I thought to myself, is as old as what was futuristic in the past.

I think I'd felt that as long as I avoided looking for the tickets, they would be there; it was only if I searched the archive that they'd disappear, as if the past were up until that point indeterminate, that I might outrun it.

None of the past was usable.

The momentary sense of having traveled back in time.

Because those moments had been enabled by a future that had never arrived, they could not be remembered from this future that, at and as the present, had obtained; they'd faded from the photograph.

And I felt as if it were true: as if she were dying and not dead, or as if the train could take me back in time.

I find this less scandalous than beautiful: a kind of palimpsestic plagiarism that moves through bodies and time, a collective song with no single origin, or whose origin has been erased--the way a star, from our earthly perspective, is often survived by its own light.

The former says he waits for me ahead, but I doubt I'll arrive in time . . .

Emerging from the train, I found it was fully night, the air excited by foreboding and something else, something like the feel of a childhood snow day when time was emancipated from institutions, when the snow seemed like a technology for defeating time, or like defeated time itself falling from the sky, each glittering ice particle an instant gifted back from your routine.

Another historic storm had failed to arrive, as though we lived outside of history or were falling out of time.

One of the hazards of having a good idea is that intelligent people tend to realize it is a good idea and seek to play a part. Like most novelists, Montagu did not like the editing process. He did not like the way Operation Mincemeat was being watered down. He did not like senior officers pulling rank and tinkering with a project in which he had invested so much of his time, energy, and personality.