Quotes About Time

I fell in love with running, and I finally have time to do it now.

I don't love the years going by. I'd just as soon stay forty-five. But it's OK because I feel a whole lot better than I did at thirty-five.

I love going back in time, and the only time you can really do that is on a movie set.

It is quite different, but I love doing a series because you get to live with a character for a much longer amount of time. And the other aspect of it is that you have a steady job.

When you have loved as she has loved, you grow old beautifully.

I'd love to get ideas on overcoming jet lag.

In springtime, the only pretty ring time Birds sing, hey ding A-ding, a-ding Sweet lovers love the spring—

'Cause if your love was all I had in this life, well that would be enough until the end of time. So rest your weary heart and relax your mind, 'Cause I'm gonna love you, girl, until the end of time.

if you love me, love me now. dont hold yourself so badly until tears starts to mean nothing

The only question is how to make love stay.

How can time be so wrong for love to come along? Catch me I'm falling for you.

What can be shown? What true love be? All could be known or shown If Time were but gone.

I love old moons. There is something humanized about them; they are dulled a little, and rich in color. One can stare all night at an old moon.

I don't want to waste time being angry at someone I love.

Movies come together and they fall apart. We try to focus on things we love to see. It is, they come together, they fall apart and they come together again and you're with them for a long long time.

Nate would tolerate most things for about an hour if he knew there was the promise of a snack and the chance to be left alone in the near future.

Angela felt like a ghost, moving out of time. Yesterday, they had rushed down this hallway, screaming with laughter as they grabbed their favorite rooms. Now the doors were all cocked open from when the police had trampled through. There had been strangers in the house, strangers in the suitcases, strangers in the drawers and closets

I am not and I endure. An inexorable future stretches forth infinitely for this suppressed being. Hope turns in fear against time which drags it forward. All feelings gush out of themselves and come together, destroyed, abolished, in this feeling which molds me, makes me and unmakes me, causes me to feel, hideously, in a total absence of feeling, my reality in the shape of nothingness.

Memory is freedom of the past. But what has no present will not accept the present of a memory either. Memory says of the event: it once was and now it will never be again. The irremediable character of what has no present, of what is not even there as having once been there, says: it never happened, never for a first time, and yet it starts over, again, again, infinitely. It is without end, without beginning. It is without a future.

Is not our entire life a waiting-room where we fidget about until the arrival of the train which takes us to the Great Beyond?

Every man believes to some extent that the world began when he was born and, at the moment of leaving it, suffers at having to let the Universe remain unfinished.

Days lived, whether full or empty, whether busy or serene, are but days gone by, and the ashes of the past weigh the same in every hand.

For in truth the years have little effect on our nature and age does not free us of our faults. We lose our hair more quickly than our weaknesses.

Chaque homme, parce qu'il croit un peu que le monde est né en même temps que lui, souffre, au moment de quitter la vie, de laisser l'univers inachevé.