Quotes About Time

Eight years older than me

lovely memory / Until eternity; / She came, she loved, and then she went away.

on noon at Friday

Everything passes, but nothing entirely goes away.

Of course he's always know that the Odyssey and the Illiad are stories that were passed on orally long before Homer - or whoever it was - wrote them down. But never before has the connection between space, time, and words revealed itself so clearly as at this moment. The bad drop of the desert shows it off in sharp relief, but really it's always just the same all over the world: without memory, man is nothing more than a bit of flesh on the planet's surface.

Time has the power to separate us, not only from others, but also from ourselves—a fact that's hard to grasp. We know that time also separates us from circumstances that might have turned us into very different people.

Bis heute setzen die älteren Frauen sich vor Sonnenaufgang, noch in der Nacht, unter freiem Himmel hin und singen: Auch wenn einer reich und vermögend ist, ist der Tod ihm nahe. Der Tod ist größer als die Zeit, er umfängt sie. Gerade jetzt sendet er seine Pfeile aus, Sie gehen nieder in die Mitte der Herde.

Die Zeit macht etwas mit einem Menschen, weil ein Mensch keine Maschine ist, die man an- und ausschalten kann. Die Zeit, in der ein Mensch nicht weiß, wie sein Leben ein Leben werden kann, füllt so einen Untätigen vom Kopf bis zu den Zehen.

dass die Erde eher wie eine Müllhalde ist, die verschiedenen Zeiten fallen im Dunkeln, den Mund mit Erde gefüllt, übereinander her, die eine begattet die andre, ohne fruchtbar zu sein, und der Fortschritt besteht immer wieder nur darin, dass die, die auf dieser Erde herumgehen, von alldem nichts wissen.

THERE IS A PERIOD WHEN IT IS CLEAR THAT YOU HAVE GONE WRONG BUT YOU CONTINUE. SOMETIMES THERE IS A LUXURIOUS AMOUNT OF TIME BEFORE ANYTHING BAD HAPPENS.

IT'S AN EXTRAORDINARY FEELING WHEN PART OF YOUR BODY ARE TOUCHED FOR THE FIRST TIME. I'M THINKING OF THE SENSATIONS FROM SEX AND SURGERY.

The time that passes with goodness will not return with evil; and nothing experienced in life later on can make one day wither or erase one hour of the life that has been lived.

In a clock, stop but one wheel and you stop every wheel, because they are dependent upon one other. So when God has ordered a thing for the present to be thus and thus, how do you know how many things depend upon this thing? God may have some work to do twenty years hence that depends on this passage of providence that falls out this day or this week.

In a clock, stop but one wheel and you stop every wheel, because they are dependent upon one another. So when God has ordered a thing for the present to be thus and thus, how do you know how many things depend upon this thing? God may have some work to do twenty years hence that depends on this passage of providence that falls out this day or this week.

No really. If you only have seven years left, that means the Reaper will be dropping round for tea and buns in about 61,000 hours from now. You therefore shouldn't be wasting time by pootling to the garden centre at walking pace. So come on, grandad. The clock's ticking. Pedal to the metal. Or you'll be in your flowerbed before the plants you bought.

Everything human … has its period: nations, like mortal men, advance only to decline; dismembered empire and diminished glory mark a crisis in the constitution;

One cannot be free from the stresses of a speed- and size-obsessed culture, until you are free from the materialistic addictions, time-famine mindset, and comparative impulses that created it in the first place.

Quality time" becomes a guilt-induced euphemism for "not enough time.

We worked steadily for five-and-twenty minutes, and did four potatoes.

Angelina would have gone on loving Edwin forever and ever and ever if only Edwin had not grown so strange and different. Edwin would have adored Angelina through eternity if Angelina had only remained the same as when he first adored her.

It seems to me so shocking to see the precious hours of a man's life - the priceless moments that will never come back to him again - being wasted in a mere brutish sleep.

It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story.

It must be eight years since I last saw Joseph Taboys. How pleasant it would be to meet his jovial face again, to clasp his strong hand, and to hear his cheery laugh once more! He owes me 14 shillings, too.

Oh, give me back the good old days of fifty years ago, has been the cry ever since Adam's fifty-first birthday.