Quotes About Time

Life is long. Things can resume.

I love you Utanapishtim. Ziasudra. And if I die tonight, my only regret will be that we didn't have more time together. And if I die a thousand years from now, my only regret will be exactly the same. I love you, I love you. I love you

As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.

Memories are like layers of your skin or layers of paint on a canvas.

Death comes, and makes a man his prey, A man whose powers are yet unspent; Like one on gathering flowers intent, Whose thoughts are turned another way. Begin betimes to practise good, Lest fate surprise thee unawares Amid thy round of schemes and cares; To-morrow?s task to-day conclude.*

The future depends on what we do in the present.

If they Brought you back the old cafes, who will bring you back the old friends?

No night is long enough for us to dream twice.

Coffee should not be drunk in a hurry. It is the sister of time, and should be sipped slowly, slowly. Coffee is the sound of taste, a sound for the aroma. It is a meditation and a plunge into memories and the soul.

Are we what we do with time, or are we what time does with us?

And we have the night ahead of us to stroll in lilac-scented gardens. Everything there is here. It is all ours. You are mine, I am yours and the shadow, your shadow, laughs like an orange. The dream did its job and, like a postman, hurried on to someone else. So we have to be worthy, this evening, of ourselves, and of a river that runs along beside us, and that we flow into as it flows into us.

Do not be absent for too long, then come and ask about how I am, details die with time and stories change.

After you nothing goes and nothing returns.

Where is my second road to the staircase of expanse? Where is futility? Where is the road to the road? And where are we, the marching on the footpath of the present tense, where are we? Our talk a predicate and a subject before the sea, and the elusive foam of speech the dots on the letters, wishing for the present tense a foothold on the pavement …

This peace will leave us as a cluster of dust...

They want time to move fast so they can paint their nails a provocative red and wear high heels that crack walnuts and make people jump. He wants time to slow down so he can prolong the enjoyment of walking among them, of being next to this self-contained beauty.

Do not be absent for too long, then come and ask about how am, details die with time and stories change.

She says: When are we gonna meet? I say: After a year and a war She says: When does the war end? I say: The time we meet

Get rid of my tomorrow. Return my yesterday and leave us alone together. After you nothing leaves and nothing returns.

We find time for entertainment: we throw dice or flip throw our papers for news of yesterday's wounded, and read the horoscope column: In the year two thousand and two the camera smiles for those born in the sign of siege

There is no tomorrow in This desert except what we saw yesterday

She says: When are we going to meet? I say: After a year and a war She says: When does the war end? I say: When we meet

How many times shall things be over, Father?

It is for the killer to kill, the fighter to fight, and the bird to sing. As for me, I halt my quest for figurative language. I bring my search for meaning to a complete stop because the essence of war is to degrade symbols and bring human relations, space, time, and the elements back to a state of nature, making us rejoice over water gushing on the road from a broken pipe.