Quotes About Time

He will not be three forever. And winter is coming.

As the next thousand years unfold—and the thousands beyond that—many more will be born, and live, and die. And history will continue to unfold, as strange and complex and compelling as what my humble pen was able to lay before you

I often spend half the night with ghosts, remembering times fifty years past as if they were yesterday. The mystery of a midnight visitor is a welcome diversion.

That is how it is when a man grows as old as Pycelle. Everything you see or hear reminds you of something you saw or heard when you were young.

So do not waste my time. It is the most precious thing I have, time. It is the most precious thing any of us have.

That's what they always ended up saying: "But I'm just sad." Feeling sad means having too much time on your hands, usually. Really. I'm not a licensed therapist but usually it means too much time.

Dead history is writ in ink, the living sort in blood.

Stories wait, my little lord, and when you come back to them, why, there they are

Forgive an old man his wanderings, if you would. Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.

Oh, sí, hay muchas cosas que no comprendemos. Pasan los años, cientos, miles, ¿y qué ve un hombre en su vida? Unos pocos veranos, unos pocos inviernos. Miramos las montañas y decimos que son eternas, así nos lo parecen... pero, en el curso del tiempo, las montañas se alzan y caen, cambia el curso de los ríos, mueren estrellas en el cielo y grandes ciudades se hunden debajo del mar. Incluso los dioses mueren. Todo cambia.

It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke.

Money buys a man's silence for a time. A bolt in the heart buys it forever.

She had been making for Riverrun for years, it seemed, without ever getting there.

Hard things only grow harder if y ou put them off.

Algunas heridas no llegan a cerrarse jamás, y sangran de nuevo a la menor mención.

What good is this, i ask you? He who hurries through life hurries to his grave.

For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction.

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.

How time seemed to blur and slow and even stop, how the past and the future vanished until there was nothing but the instant, how fear fled, and thought fled, and even your body.

The time to speak of the cold is not when we are standing put in it.

The old wounds never heal.

CATELYN Ned and the girls were eight days gone when Maester Luwin came to her one night in Bran's sickroom, carrying a reading lamp and the books of account. "It is past time that we reviewed the

place or that place. The rest of the time, they ate in his solar,

Taking his arm, Pylos led him inside. In his youth, Cressen had walked briskly, but he was not far from his eightieth name day now, and his legs were frail and unsteady. Two years