Quotes About Time

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

His golden locks time hath to silver turned;O time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing!His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurned,But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing.

The pleasure of sport was so often the chance to indulge the cessation of time itself--the pitcher dawdling on the mound, the skier poised at the top of a mountain trail, the basketball player with the rough skin of the ball against his palm preparing for a foul shot, the tennis player at set point over his opponent--all of them savoring a moment before committing themselves to action.

History is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging.

Past a certain point, all the dates grow hazy and confused, and the clarity of history becomes the fog of legend.

He himself would have had only the courage to live on, feeling death creep in closer year by year as once the darkness had crept in from the corners of the room when the lights were failing. ... He had known despair, but now he knew hope. He looked forward with confidence to the time when the sun would again be setting at the southern end of its long arc... It was not finished. The thing would go on.

Nothing makes the past a sweeter place to visit than the prospect of imminent death.

Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.

My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.

Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.

He who hurries through life hurries to his grave.

Aemon's blind white eyes came open. "Egg?" he said, as the rain streamed down his cheeks. "Egg, I dreamed that I was old.

Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.

The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem... but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come.

Shattered legs may heal in time, but some betrayals fester and poison the soul.

Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.

Still ... in this world only winter is certain.

The years leech at a man's memories, even those he has vowed never to forget.

We're all just songs in the end. If we are lucky.

You mistake patience for forbearance.

She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her man had always made her wait.

Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries. For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak.