Quotes About Time

pleasure will be paid one time or another.

But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

Age, thou hast lost thy labor.

The time approaches That will with due decision make us know What we shall say we have and what we owe. Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, But certain issue strokes must arbitrate; Towards which, advance the war. They exit marching.

He that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: For women are as roses, whose fair flower, Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

The night is long that never finds the day.

What is thy body but a swallowing grave, Seeming to bury that posterity Which, by the rights of time, thou needs must have If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity? If so, the world will hold thee in disdain, Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.

I am to wait, though waiting so be hell. Sonnet 58.13

Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'er-step not the modesty of nature: for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.

For youth is bought more oft than begged or borrowed.

Love's night is noon.

Invinge durerea, razi cat se poate, caci tot la zi ajunge si cea mai lunga noapte...

To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

What, Lucius, ho! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius!

Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time, Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been performed Too terrible for the ear. The times has been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end. But now they rise again With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,             And push us from our stools. This is more strange Than such a murder is.

The tender spring upon thy tempting lip Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted: Make use of time, let not advantage slip; Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.

Be not so long to speak; I long to die

This might be the be-all and end-all here, but here, upon this bank and shoal of time, we'd jump the life to come

A nacido lo único que amo de lo único que odio! ¡Demasiado temprano te encontré sin conocerte y demasiado tarde te conozco!

Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

Men have died from time to time, and words have eaten them, but not for love.

The sands are number'd that make up my life.

Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.