Quotes About Time

My mother is thirty-one years old, but the land out here paints old age onto her.

Stars slid away like rain, she was gone so long.

March 1. DEAR BABY: I like the way you turn in half circles on the mattress, like a senile clock.

Sand, sand, sand—all that pulverized time. Eons ago, the world's burst hourglass spilled its contents here; now the years pile and spin, waiting with inhuman patience to be swept into some future ocean.

The horses have been trying to get hold of the girl's schoolbooks for some time. Every president wants to find out how history regards him.

The past, with its monstrous depth and span, reached toward him, demanding an understanding that he simply could not give it. His mind was too young and too narrow to withstand the onrush of her life.

Mr. Oamaru has taught me that loss isn't just limited to the present; it can happen in any direction. Even what's done and vanished can be taken from you. Other, earlier memories that we made of my father sink and revert to water

The sun is back at its original o'clock.

In the beginning, fifty hours sounded like a bleak ocean of time, more hours than Sawtooth wanted to spend with himself, let alone with another person. Now he needs the girl to sit and measure time with him, the way the neighbor woman needs her prescription mirror so that she doesn't forget her own face.

Only one or two lemons tumble from the branches each hour, but I've been sitting here so long their falls seem contiguous, close as raindrops.

Whatever song we are making in this place, we are going to die without hearing.

Time, as our species has lived it on this planet, will cease to exist. No more dark/light binary. No more active red daytime, blue evening dissolving. No longer is sunshine the coagulant of consciousness, causing us to clot into personalities, to cohere once more on our pillows each morning.

Just about everybody I've ever wanted to impress, I've now outlived.

Live long enough, and your life becomes your own to gamble with again

An unembarrassed silence seemed to be on loan to us from the distant future, where we were already friends.

Sand, sand, sand—all that pulverized time. Eons ago, the world's burst hourglass spilled its contents here; now the years pile and spin, waiting with inhuman patience to be swept into some future ocean. Sand washes right up to the paved road, washes over to the other side in a solid orange current, illuminated by their headlights.

It occurred to me that, given the life span of a moth, one kid's twitch must take a year to complete.

Collect moments not things.

Time not only heals, time reveals

It's easier to be a saint for fifteen minutes than an hour

Time could heal, but it wouldn't make wrongs go away. Time came back like a reminder. Time folded with memory. In a moment, everything could fold itself up, and time stand still.

I left my job in the fall, and now I can set my life up around writing instead of squeezing writing into my day it's amazing to have that time, and I feel very lucky.

Time means lives. Time means more chaos. We always think that time will resolve things, but it never has.

Miles and years become suddenly invisible when you find yourself back where you started from, as if you've learned nothing and you are once again the person you once were.