Quotes About Time

And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days...

Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

no time ago or else a life walking in the dark i met christ jesus)my heart flopped over and lay still while he passed(as close as i'm to you yes closer made of nothing except loneliness.

there's time for laughing and there's time for crying— for hoping for despair for peace for longing —a time for growing and a time for dying: a night for silence and a day for singing but more than all(as all your more than eyes tell me)there is a time for timelessness

for life's not a paragraph/ and death, i think, is no parenthesis.

a connotation of infinity / sharpens the temporal splendor of this night

God has raised his hand to give us respite. It could be he has something more in mind for us. With this time on our hands, we should try to figure out what it could be. Because HE don't do pointless acts of charity.

Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel

in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem) in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find) and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me,remember me

tomorrow is our permanent address and there they'll scarcely find us(if they do, we'll move away still further:into now

what time is it?its is by every star a different time,and each most falsely true ...

suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.

life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis..

tomorrow is our permanent address

E.E. Cummings

Now is the time when all occasional things close into silence.

anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down)

O still miraculous May!O shining girl of time untarnished!O small intimate gently primeval hands,frivolous feet divine!O singular and breathless pearl! O indefinable frail ultimate pose! O visible beatitude sweet sweet intolerable!silence immaculate of god's evasive audible great rose!

time is a tree(this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough

old age sticks up Keep Off signs)& youth yanks them down(old age cries No Tres)&(pas) youth laughs (sing old age scolds Forbid den Stop Must n't Don't &)youth goes right on gr owing old

in spite of everything which breathes and moves, since Doom (with white longest hands neatening each crease) will smooth entirely our minds --before leaving my room I turn, and(stooping through the morning)kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.

gone are those hugest hours of dark and cold when blood and flesh to inexistence bow (all that was doubtful's certain,timid's bold; old's youthful and reluctant's eager now)

We view the past, and achieve our understanding of the past, only through the eyes of the present

So: after all, we may with assurance say only the following about the Old One's universe: that nothing is constant other than the speed of light. Of space all we may say with assurance is that it is something you measure with a ruler. And of time all we may say is that it is something you measure with a clock. But for the theological visions and screams and terrors this produces in our brains, I beg you do not hold me responsible.