Quotes About Time

Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain.

I am always late on principle, my principle being that punctuality is the thief of time.

The one charm about the past is that it is the past. But women never know when the curtain has fallen.

LADY BRACKNELL To speak frankly, I am not in favour of long engagements. They give people the opportunity of finding out each other's character before marriage, which I think is never advisable.

Time is a waste of money.

What is done is done. What is past is past. You call yesterday the past? What has the actual lapse of time got to do with it? It is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.

Don't squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar

Even you are not rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No man is

Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself.

I have a business appointment that I am anxious... to miss.

the Garden of Death Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is.

Come, dear, [Gwendolen rises] we have already missed five, if not six, trains. To miss any more might expose us to comment on the platform.

Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die. This shillyshallying with the question is absurd.

Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses.

We know not whether laws be right Or whether laws be wrong All we know who lie in gaol Is that the walls are strong And each day is like a year A year whose days are long.

Youth is the only thing worth having.

It is quite true that I have worshipped you with far more romance of feeling than a man usually gives to a friend. Somehow, I had never loved a woman. I suppose I never had time. Perhaps, as Harry says, a really grande passion is the privilege of those who have nothing to do, and that is the use of the idle classes in a country

The tragedy of growing old is not that one is old but that one is young.

It was as if by taking a photo he could, at any moment, rein habit an older life - one where a body didn't droop, or hair didn't fall out, or a future didn't have to exist

And now I wonder what the old man remembers about her these days. Maybe nothing. Maybe silence has cured him of memory . Maybe there's an absolute vacuum in the anathema of age

Years later, in America, I was told that Navajo Indians believed coyotes ushered in the Big Bang of the world with their song, stood on the rim of nothingness, before time, shoved their pointed muzzles in the air, and howled the world into existence at their feet. The Indians called them longdogs. The universe was etched with their howls, sound merging into sound, the beginning of all other songs.

The years tumbled on. They had kids: one two three four. Beauties. Whippersnappers. A little wild, all of them.

Aber das ist das Problem mit dem Alter: Man hat ein Gefühl, aber kein Datum. Und wenn man das Datum ausgräbt, verliert man das Gefühl.

The river is not where it begins or ends, but right in the middle point, anchored by what has happened and what is to arrive.