Quotes About Time

the big day hadn't gone the way she'd hoped, not that big days ever did. Birthdays

I try not to think too much about those days now - let the past be past. The truth is, we're all prisoners of our historical context. Anybody who says morality is absolute, that right and wrong don't change over time, you know what? They just haven't lived long enough. (Page 33)

I try not to think too much about those days now—let the past be past. The truth is, we're all prisoners of our historical context. Anybody who says morality is absolute, that right and wrong don't change over time, you know what? They just haven't lived long enough.

In New Orleans, on the other hand, geography and time, food, music, holidays, modes of dress and ways of speaking, are part of an integrated fabric. People dress in certain ways for certain events, and certain foods are eaten on certain days

The past in New Orleans cohabits with the present to an extent not even approximated in any other North American city.

But do we know how to make love stay?' I can't even think about it. The best I can do is play it day by day.

If by the quarter of the twentieth century godliness wasn't next to something more interesting than cleanliness, it might be time to reevaluate our notions of godliness.

Dip a slice of bread in batter. That's September: yellow, gold, soft and sticky. Fry the bread. Now you have October: chewier, drier, streaked with browns. The day in question fell somewhere in the middle of the french toast process.

Are you aware that rushing toward a goal is a sublimated death wish? It's no coincidence we call them 'deadlines.

A book no more contains reality than a clock contains time. A book may measure so-called reality as a clock measures so-called time; a book may create an illusion of reality as a clock creates an illusion of time; a book may be real, just as a clock is real (both more real, perhaps, than those ideas to which they allude); but let's not kid ourselves - all a clock contains is wheels and springs and all a book contains is sentences.

The bottom line is that (a) people are never perfect, but love can be, (b) that is the one and only way that the mediocre and the vile can be transformed, and (c) doing that makes it that. Loving makes love. Loving makes itself. We waste time looking for the perfect lover instead of creating the perfect love. Wouldn't that be the way to make love stay?

Time passed. Art came off the walls and became rituals. Ritual became religion. Religion spawned science. Science led to big business. And big business, if it continues on its present, mindless trajectory, could land those lucky enough to survive its ultimate legacy back into caves again.

Every day is Judgement Day. Always has been. Always will be.

Salvador Dali and fifty cents will get you a cup of clock melt.

Why procrastinate when you can precognitate?

The only question is how to make love stay.

The Middle Ages hangs over history's belt like a beer belly. It is too late now for aerobic dancing or cottage cheese lunches to reduce the Middle Ages. History will have to wear size 48 shorts forever.

A book no more contains reality than a clock contains time.

AS THE AFTERNOON PROGRESSES, our shadows grow longer. At night, in the dark, we become our shadows.

To wit: actions, like sounds, divide the flow of time into beats.[...]The quality of a man's life depends on the rhyhmic structure he is able to impose upon the input and output of energy.

Time brought along its secretary, memory, and space brought its brat, loneliness.

Every daydream that involves the past sports in its hatband a ticket to the grave.

If love eats the donut, does time eat the hole?

There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay? Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself. Answer me that and I will ease your mind about the beginning and the end of time. Answer me that and I will reveal to you the purpose of the moon.