Quotes About Time

If we could push ajar the gates of life, And stand within, and all God's workings see, We could interpret all this doubt and strife, And for each mystery could find a key. But not today. Then be content, poor heart! God's plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold: We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart-- Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.

Her eyes filled. "He forgot my birthday, two weeks ago," she said. "It was the first one he had ever forgotten, in nineteen of them." Nineteen! Nineteen from thirty-five leaves sixteen!

In one sense, reading is a great waste of time. In another sense, it is a great extension of time, a way for one person to live a thousand and one lives in a single lifespan, to watch the great impersonal universe at work again and again,

Sent to the Monk" Night falls and the empty intimacy of the whole world fills my heart to frothing. The past has trudged to this one spot and falls into the stream, its flashlight in its mouth. Ancient tears beneath the surface rise and scatter like carp, while an ivory hairpin floats away like a loose tooth going back in time. Columbia Poetry Review. Spring 2014

Like many women my age, I am 28 years old.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Time is a great restorer, and changes surely the greatest sorrow into a pleasing memory.

Past and future were connected in an eternal ring

To expect and dread a thing for a lifetime; does not prepare you for the thing itself.

Life does just go on, and you change, and you can't go back. You have to live it the way it comes.

O time! thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me to untie. —Shakespeare, Twelfth Night People require different amounts of time for grieving.

My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season.

To lead a human life, a man must have a notion of himself as having a past and a future.

The past is only the present become invisible and mute and because it is invisible and mute, its memoried glances and it's murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.

Oh, I know you think the corals too young for me. You have not worn them since you left off dotted muslins. You insist upon growing old. I insist upon remaining young.

He who devotes sixteen hours a day to hard study may become at sixty as wise as he thought himself at twenty.

Life is too short for a long story.

What still doth waste, and wasting as this light, Are my sad days unto eternal night.

This seems impossible to me. It seems biologically impossible to stay the same size, although I must. It seems one must always be either bigger or smaller than they were at some arbitrary point in time to which all things are compared. The panties that are possibly tighter than they were. When? You can't say when. But you are absolutely positive no question that it's true.

In our absence, the violet early evening light pours in the bay window, filling the still room like water poured into a glass. The glass is delicate. The thin, tight surface of the liquid light trembles. But it does not break. Time does not pass. Not yet.

Bear in mind you have a life to live. There is an incredible loss. There is a profound grief. And there is, in the end, after a long time and more work than you ever thought possible, a time when it gets easier.

Sitting out there on the porch, I laughed. How funny—to think of us turning our clocks this way and that, importantly telling the sun when to rise and when to set, when we would prefer it to be light and when dark.

The great omission in American life is solitude; not loneliness, for this is an alienation that thrives most in the midst of crowds, but that zone of time and space, free from the outside pressures, which is the incubator of the spirit.

Now was not the time to be sentimental. As a child, she'd been ridiculously sentimental about loss, about time passing.