Quotes About Time

Midnight has passed, so it is now officially tomorrow

What one loves in childhood stays in the heart forever.

And that point is, it doesn't matter how long you've known somebody. People change. Or you don't really know them as well as you thought you did in the first place.

Old wounds. They faded, but they never really went away, did they?

It takes twenty or so years before a mother can know with any certainty how effective her theories have been--and even then there are surprises. The daily newspapers raise the most frightening questions of all for a mother of sons: Could my once sweet babes ever become violent men? Are my sons really who I think they are?

The truth invariably arrives several years after you need it.

How can one explain all the time and thought that goes into raising a child, all the opportunities for mistakes, all the chances to recover and try again? How does one break the news that nothing permanent can be formed in an instant--children are not weaned, potty trained, taught manners, introduced to civilization in one or two tries--as everyone imagined.

A story conducted by the time of a clock and calendars alone would be a story not of human beings but of mechanical toys.

Tomorrow is forever, and years pass in no time at all

children have very little concept of time. Tomorrow is forever, and years pass in no time at all.

Maybe it's a matter of tenses. Of grammar. Our love existed, it does exist, it will exist. On the great continuum of time, perhaps it is the tenses that will cease to be. What does the scientist in you think of that?

My Great Grandmother Morrison fixed a book-rest to her spinning wheel so that she could read while she was spinning, or so the story goes. And one Saturday evening she became so absorbed in her book that when she looked up she found that it was half-past midnight and she had spun for half an hour on the Sabbath Day. Back then, that counted as a major sin.

I see the old even as I am looking at the new--the storefronts now occupied by up-to-date boutiques and trendy retail shops. It's almost like being in two places at the same time.

Using the excuse of a busy life, I downshifted my conversations with God to asking for favors on the run.

One of the nicest gifts we can give the person we're sharing our lives with is the support and time to pursue his/her passion — even if we don't fully understand it.

It was hard to imagine that one day I would be able to recall Larry with only a neutral kind of tenderness. Now the divorce brought back memories, and thinking of Larry was like touching a bruise, tender and aching at the edges, more so at the center of its blue-black heart. The hurt was less when I didn't touch it, but time and again my mind moved back to go over it, like a tongue on a sore tooth. In

It is day after day. It is week after week. It is month after month. It is year after year. It is only time going and going. There is no joy. There is no lightness of heart. It is only the passing of days. I am young and alone.

Nineteen years are as ages to you when you are nineteen. When you are nineteen there is no experience to tell you that all things have an end.

But I am too young yet to think of peace. It is not peace that I want. Peace is for forty or fifty. I am waiting for my Experience.

Nineteen years are as ages to you when you are nineteen. When you are nineteen, there is no experience to tell you that all things have an end. This aching pain has no end.

The only time a women wishes she was a year older is when she's expecting a baby.

That one doesn't paint a landscape, a seascape, a figure; one paints the effect of a time of day on a landscape, a seascape, or a figure.

Every age has a keyhole to which its eye is pasted.

You can date the evolving life of a mind, like the age of a tree, by the rings of friendship formed by the expanding central trunk.