Quotes About Time

But here's life's most limiting truth – it's always now, always here, never then and there. And

It was thought, perception, sensations that interested her, the conscious mind as a river through time, and how to represent its onward roll, as well as all the tributaries that would swell it, and the obstacles that would divert it. If only she could reproduce the clear light of a summer's morning

How quickly the dead faded into each other

The past had shown him many times that the future would be its own solution.

since coming home, her life had stood still and a fine day like this made her impatient, almost desperate.

These were the months that shaped us.behind all our frustrations over all these years has been the wish to get back to those happy days.Once we began to see the world differently we could feel time running out on us and we were impatient with each other.Every disagreement was an interruption of what we knew was possible-and soon there was only interruption.And in the end time did run out,but memories are still there,accusing us,and we still can't let each other alone.

The nineteenth century was closer than most women thought.

Beyond a certain age, a journey across the city becomes uncomfortably reflective...One day I too will prompt a moment's reflection in the passenger of a passing cab.

But here's life's most limiting truth - it's always now, always here, never then and there.

What I took to be the norm -- taut, smooth, supple -- was the transient special case of youth. To me, the old were a separate species, like sparrows or foxes.

Say it again slowly, that thing about the river.

Now time, afternoon time, which in the Midi is as elemental as air and light, expanded and rolled billowingly outwards across the rest of the day, and upwards to the vaults of the cobalt sky, freeing everyone in its delicious sprawl from their obligations.

We often tell ourselves off for wasting time in chairs, fully dressed, when we could be doing the same lying down in bed, face to face and naked.

The light of artistic creation is also blinding. The artist can't see the suffering he causes to those around him. And the'll never understand the purity of his goal, how the heat of his invention won't melt the ice in his heart. He must be ruthless! No religion, no purpose except this: Make something perfect before you die. Life is short, art is for all time

Sex is a different medium, refracting time and sense, a biological hyperspace as remote from conscious existence as dreams, or as water is from air. As his mother used to say, another element; the day is changed, Henry, when you take a swim. And that day is bound to be marked out from all the rest.

But here's life's most limiting truth - it's always now, always here, never then and there.

Lucy had told me more than once that the past was a burden, that it was time to tear everything down.

And behind all this human movement the ocean bobbed and folded and slid, for nothing could keep still, not people, not water, not time.

My ideal state as a reader when I'm reading other people is feeling I'm vaguely wasting my time when I'm not reading that novel.

Vreau s? zic c? am v?zut lucrurile într-o lumin? stranie, ca pentru prima oar?. Toate mi s-au p?rut altfel: prea precis conturate, prea reale. Chiar È™i mâinile mele arat? altfel. Alteori mi se pare c? m? uit la tot ce se întâmpl? în jur ca È™i cum s-ar fi întâmplat foarte demult.

The future kept arriving. Our bright new toys began to rust before we could get them home, and life went on much as before.

instructions

But the crowded recent past can be difficult to recall.

So what's the use of a headache, a heartache? What am I being warned against, or told what to do? Don't let your incestuous uncle and mother poison your father. Don't waste your precious days idle and inverted. Get born and act!