Quotes About Time

It is only in appearance that time is a river. It is rather a vast landscape and it is the eye of the beholder that moves.

and most profoundly personal philosophical inquiry that we can undertake. It is the question that defines us as human beings. The novel begins precisely at noon on July 20

Facciamo quello che possiamo. Tiriamo avanti, Esteban, come meglio possiamo. Non dura molto, sai,... Il tempo passa. Ti sorprenderà vedere come passa in fretta".

So - people a thousand years from now...This is the way we were: in our growing up and in our marrying and in our living and in our dying.

In the early summer of 1902 John Barrington

De nemsokára mi is meghalunk, minket is csak egy kis ideig szeretnek még., aztán elfelejtenek. De a szeretetnek ez teljesen elegendÅ'. A szeretet minden megnyilvánulása visszahull a szeretetre, amelybÅ'l fakadt. Annak, aki szeret, nincsen szüksége arra, hogy emlékezzenek rá. Van az elevenek országa meg a holtak országa, s a híd a szeretet, csak az marad meg, az az élet egyetlen értelme.

Well, I heard a lot of the hours struck

Christmas, 1905 This is a history. But there is only one history. It began with the creation of man and will come to an end when the last human consciousness is extinguished.

Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?

Emily: But just for a moment now we're all together. Mama, just for a moment we're all happy. Let's really look at one another... I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another.

Life affords no second chances," he thought. "Is this what growing older is—seeing always more clearly the things we failed to see?

Y qué queda cuando la memoria desaparece?

Thornton Wilder

Yes, now you know. Now you know! That's what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those...of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know — that's the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.

I suppose it seems ignoble to you that a great oak of a man should go about the world like a blind man about an empty house merely because a chit of a girl has been withdrawn from it. No, no, you cannot understand this, my adored one, but I understand and grow pale...You will laugh at me, but I think he goes about the hemispheres to pass the time between now and his old age.

I didn't realize all that was going on that we didnt notice. Goodbye, world Mom, and Pop. Goodbye, the clock is ticking. And mommas sunflowers, and food, and coffee, and new iron dresses, and hot baths, and sleeping, and waking up. Oh, Earth, youre too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?

The world we knew won't come back. The time we lost can't get back. The lives we had won't be ours again.

THE ALL creates in its Infinite Mind countless Universes, which exist for aeons of Time — and yet, to THE ALL, the creation, development, decline and death of a million universes is as the time of the twinkling of an eye.

THE UNIVERSE, AND ALL IT CONTAINS, IS A MENTAL CREATION OF THE ALL. Verily indeed, ALL IS MIND! "THE ALL creates in its Infinite Mind countless Universes, which exist for aeons of Time—and yet, to THE ALL, the creation, development, decline and death of a million Universes is as the time of the twinkling of an eye."—The Kybalion.     "The Infinite Mind of THE ALL is the womb of Universes."—The     Kybalion.

Nothing stands still - everything is being born, growing, dying - the very instant a thing reaches its height, it begins to decline - the law of rhythm is in constant operations....

Or perhaps is is that time doesn't heal wounds at all, perhaps that is the biggest lie of them all, and instead what happens is that each wound penetrates the body deeper and deeper until one day you find that the sheer geography of your bones - the angle of your hips, the sharpness of your shoulders, as well as the luster of your eyes, the texture of your skin, the openness of your smile - has collapsed under the weight of your griefs.

but her mind feels feverish as it races through the crowded hallways of the past

Bhima smiles. "Beti, the past is always present," she says. "No such thing as bringing it up. The past is like the skin on your hand—it was there yesterday and it is here today. It never goes anywhere. Maybe when you're older you'll understand this better.

What to do, Smita? She had everything but the gift of years. Nothing we can do. What cannot be cured must be endured.