Quotes About Time

Ben lungi dall'essere fluida, la modernità è l'epoca in cui le parole sono pietre, e in cui si attua l'incubo del verba manent .

The game he loved, that America loved, had passed him by, left him enamored more of its past than of its present or future. It had grown younger as he grew older.

Informed of his death, Ritter recalled something Meyers had told him at their first meeting seven years earlier. I am like an old hemlock, he said. My head is still high but the winds of close to a hundred winters have whistled through my branches, and I have been witness to many wondrous and many tragic things. My eyes perceive the present, but my roots are imbedded [sic] deeply in the grandeur of the past.

With the passing of its last marcher, Rube Marquard, the parade vanished into the mists of time, leaving in its wake only memories of the men and deeds gone by.

And may he be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows he's dead." Standing

Como se imaginaba su equipo ya estaba trabajando a marchas forzadas. Cada uno se afanaba en su misión, pero nadie iba con prisas. Trabajar rápidamente, les había enseñado Caine, invocando una antigüa regla de entrenador, pero sin prisas. No era un mantra sin sentido: cuando vas con prisas, pasas por alto cosas. No obstante, la lluvia empeoraba y les quedaba poco tiempo. La madre naturaleza hacía de cómplice de un asesino.

Du weißt doch noch, die Leute beschweren sich immer beim Management, dass ihre Work-Life-Balance nicht mehr stimmt. Also, am nächsten Montag haben sie eine Personalversammlung zu diesem Thema angesetzt. Um acht Uhr früh.

Jackson: This is a debrief, Life. Your feelings aren't relevant except insofar as they imply personal weakness. There's a time and place to discuss such things, and it's when we get back home, with someone else.

Ich hatte zwar einen Laptop, doch er brauchte ewig zum Hochfahren – über eine Minute. Demnach war ich gezwungen, mir ohne Informationen über die Umweltbedingungen Kleider auszusuchen. Der helle Wahnsinn.

If a man carry his sense of proportion far enough, lo! he is back at the point from which he started. He knows that eternity, as conceived by him, is but an instant in eternity, and infinity but a speck in infinity.

Not for an instant did he flinch from the mere fact of dying to-day…To die 'untimely,' as men called it, was the timeliest of deaths for one who had carved his youth to greatness. What perfection could he, Dorset, achieve beyond what was already his? Future years could but stale, if not actually mar, that perfection. Yes, it was lucky to perish leaving much to the imagination of posterity. Dear posterity was of a sentimental, not a realistic, habit.

It is so much easier to covet what one hasn't than to revel in what one has. Also, it is so much easier to be enthusiastic about what exists than about what doesn't. The future doesn't exist. The past does.

Dear posterity was of a sentimental, not a realistic, habit.

To us, for whom so quickly "time doth transfix the flourish set on youth," there is something strange, even a trifle ludicrous, in the thought that Zeus, after all these years, is still at the beck and call of his passions.

The moon, like a gardenia in the night's button-hole—but no! why should a writer never be able to mention the moon without likening her to something else—usually something to which she bears not the faintest resemblance?... The moon, looking like nothing whatsoever but herself, was engaged in her old and futile endeavour to mark the hours correctly on the sun-dial at the centre of the lawn.

Youth is a very good thing to possess, no doubt; but it is a tiresome setting for maturity.

Take away his love for her, and what remained? Nothing—though only in the past twenty-four hours had this love been added to him.

But in the military sphere, just as in science, economics, art, or culture, change is not evenly distributed across space and time. Sometimes innovations cluster together to produce a major change in the way people live—or, in the case of the military, the way they die.

Why,' says they to themselves, 'I been sleeping; I ain't been living all this!' And they wake up and get ready to live their real lives, but they find that their real lives are just about up, and by the time they find out what they've done with themselves they're ready to die.

Maybe some instinct told them it was time to swap evolution for devolution, reach back to who they were to take back what was theirs.

J'ignore si les grandes époques font les grands hommes, mais je sais qu'elles les tuent.

and, let us not forget, the culmination of nearly five thousand years of continuous Chinese history.

It is because of this enemy, the enemy of time, that I have forsaken the luxury of hindsight and

The ants Geiser recently observed under a dripping fir tree are not concerned with what anyone might know about them; nor were the dinosaurs, which died out before a human being set eyes on them. All the papers, whether on the wall or on the carpet, can go. Who cares about the Holocene? Nature needs no names. Geiser knows that. The rocks do not need his memory.