Quotes About Time

E in quell'arco di tempo mio padre mi lesse La principessa sposa due volte. Anche quando fui in grado di leggere da solo, il libro rimase suo. Non mi sarei mai sognato di aprirlo. Era la sua voce, il suono delle sue parole che io volevo.

It was 5.48, and she knew that she would never die.

Oh, of course she'd thought about it; every girl does from time to time.

But, to judge the action fairly, we must transport ourselves to the age when it happened.

Perhaps the wrath, the just judgment of God upon us is a kind of slaying, a kind of baptismal death to our illusions and lies, that pain that happens when we are given time to stare into the mirror of truth, the pain that is harsh but is also due to love?

Perhaps the best cure for the fear of death is to reflect that life has a beginning as well as an end. There was a time when we were not: this gives us no concern. Why, then, should it trouble us that a time will come when we shall cease to be?

And, so to tell more about the South Watcher. A million years gone, as I have told, came it out from the blackness of the South, and grew steadily nearer through twenty thousand years; but so slow that in no one year could a man perceive that it had moved.

History is a ribbon, always unfurling. History is a journey. And as we continue our journey, we think of those who traveled before us . . .

For life is all too short, dear, And sorrow is all too great, To suffer our slow compassion That tarries until too late; And it isn't the thing you do, dear, It's the thing you leave undone Which gives you a bit of a heartache At the setting of the sun.

ability to get by with no more than four hours' sleep—plus an occasional catnap—was no exaggeration. "Sleep," he maintained, "is like a drug. Take too much at a time and it makes you dopey. You lose time, vitality, and opportunities.

History is nothing more than a series of small yesterdays.

None of us are ever who we were yesterday.

Let any one try, I will not say to arrest, but to notice or attend to, the present moment of time. One of the most baffling experiences occurs. Where is it, this present? It has melted in our grasp, fled ere we could touch it, gone in the instant of becoming.

O God! What a misfortune to be born! Born like a mushroom, doubtless between an evening and a morning

These windings up of unfinished years continue till the unfinished life winds up.

THERE IS A river that runs through time and the universe, vast and inexplicable, a flow of spirit that is at the heart of all existence, and every molecule of our being is a part of it. And what is God but the whole of that river?

That was it. That was all of it. A grace so ordinary there was no reason at all to remember it. Yet I have never across the forty years since it was spoken forgotten a single word.

The power which has always started the greatest religious and political avalanches in history rolling has from time immemorial been the magic power of the spoken word, and that alone.

My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain...There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory.

If we don't have time for masterpiece moments, the very reason we came to earth is being wasted on us.

As you make your way through this hectic world of ours, set aside a few minutes each day. At the end of the year, you'll have a couple of days saved up.

The three things most difficult are to keep a secret, to forget an injury, and to make good use of leisure.

It had not been a long journey, but the memory of it filled her like an infection. She had felt tethered by time to the city behind her, so that the minutes stretched out taut as she moved away, and slowed the farther she got, dragging out her little voyage.

Being a child is like nothing. It's only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.