Quotes About Time

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sand of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solenm main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

Great men die and are forgotten, Wise men speak; their words of wisdom Perish in the ears that hear them, Do not reach the generations That, as yet unborn, are waiting In the great, mysterious darkness Of the speechless days that shall be!

There was an old belief that in the embers Of all things their primordial form exists, And cunning alchemists Could re-create the rose with all its members From its own ashes, but without the bloom, Without the lost perfume Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time and change, and for a single hour Renew this phantom-flower?

Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night! The watershed of Time, from which the streams Of Yesterday and To-morrow take their way, One to the land of promise and of light, One to the land of darkness and of dreams!

And oft the blessed time foretells When all men shall be free; And musical, as silver bells, Their falling chains shall be.

Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them,   Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,   Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy,   Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors,   Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey!

The young may die, but the old must!

Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey;   Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended.

Happy, thrice happy, every one Who sees his labor well begun, And not perplexed and multiplied, By idly waiting for time and tide!

It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.

Wisely the Hebrews admit no Present tense in their language; While we are speaking the word, it is is already the Past.

Loss and Gain When I compare What I have lost with what I have gained, What I have missed with what attained, Little room do I find for pride. I am aware How many days have been idly spent; How like an arrow the good intent Has fallen short or been turned aside. But who shall dare To measure loss and gain in this wise? Defeat may be victory in disguise; The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

Turn, turn, my wheel! 'Tis nature's plan The child should grow into the man, The man grow wrinkled, old, and gray; In youth the heart exults and sings, The pulses leap, the feet have wings; In age the cricket chirps, and brings The harvest home of day.

Learn To Labor and to 'WAIT

Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.

Time is a game played beautifully by children.

How can you hide from what never goes away?

The sun is new each day.

The meaning of the river flowing is not that all things are changing so that we cannot encounter them twice but that some things stay the same only by changing.

Time. The other side doesn't seem to be under the same kind of organizational pressure, time constraints, and restrictive deadlines you feel you're under.

It could go on for years and years, And has, for centuries, For being human holds a special grief Of privacy within the universe That yearns and waits to be retouched By someone who can take away The memory of death.

If a single cell, under appropriate conditions, becomes a man in the space of a few years, there can surely be no difficulty in understanding how, under appropriate conditions, a cell may, in the course of untold millions of years, give origin to the human race.

Time: That which man is always trying to kill, but which ends in killing him.