Quotes About Time

What comes, when it comes, will be what it is.

I'd like to have enough time and quiet To think about absolutely nothing, To not ever feel myself living, To only know myself in others' eyes, reflected.

She's a manner of speaking. Even the flowers don't come back, or the green leaves. There are new flowers, new green leaves. There are other beautiful days. Nothing comes back, nothing repeats itself, because everything is real.

I don't regret anything I was before because I still am. I only regret not having loved you. Put your hands in mine And let's be quiet, surrounded by life.

I'm in no hurry: the sun and the moon aren't, either. Nobody goes faster than the legs they have. If where I want to go is far away, I'm not there in an instant. (6/20/1919)

I'm in no hurry: the sun and the moon aren't, either. Nobody goes faster than the legs they have. If where I want to go is far away, I'm not there in an instant.

I pass and I stay, like the Universe.

A stagecoach passed by on the road and went on; And the road didn't become more beautiful or even more ugly. That's human action on the outside world. We take nothing away and we put nothing back, we pass by and we forget; And the sun is always punctual every day. (5/7/14)

I'm in no hurry. What for? The sun and moon aren't in a hurry: they're right. Hurrying is believing people can get past their legs, Or that, jumping, they can land past their shadow. No; I don't know how to hurry.

Something changed in part of reality — my knees and my hands. What science has knowledge for this? The blind man goes on his way and I don't make any more gestures. It's already not the same time, or the same people, or anything the same. This is being real.

Olá, guardador de rebanhos, Aí à beira da estrada, Que te diz o vento que passa?' 'Que é vento, e que passa, E que já passou antes, E que passará depois. E a ti o que te diz?' 'Muita coisa mais do que isso, Fala-me de muitas outras coisas. De memórias e de saudades E de coisas que nunca foram.' 'Nunca ouviste passar o vento. O vento só fala do vento. O que lhe ouviste foi mentira, E a mentira está em ti.

Un buen recuerdo se borra y cuesta volver a sentir lo que sentiste en ese momento. Cuando uno se ha sentido muy como las huevas, el dolor vuelve fácil. Es eso, no más.

El pasado, creo, es mucho más difícil de ocultar que el presente.

The bird of youth flies away and doesn't come back. Fly, boy, fly!

I have no feelings of guilt regarding the books I have not read and perhaps will never read; I know that my books have unlimited patience. They will wait for me till the end of my days.

There will be a time when we all get old, have kids, and all we do is work, so the only thing we are going to have are the memories we shared on the life we lived together.

Aber keine semantische Ordnung kann allein auf solchen Binarismen beruhen, weil neben den festen immer auch bewegliche, ihren Platz im Feld wechselnde Elemente notwendig sind, um überhaupt Ordnung in der Zeit herzustellen.

Here halt, I pray you, make a little stay,O wayfarer, to read what I have writ,And know by my fate what thy fate shall be.What thou art now, wayfarer, world renowned,I was: what I am now, so shall thou be.The world's delight I followed with a heartUnsatisfied: ashes am I, and dust.

Growing up is never straight forward. There are moments when everything is fine, and other moments where you realize that there are certain memories that you'll never get back, and certain people that are going to change, and the hardest part is knowing that there's nothing you can do except watch them.

December is thirteen months long, July's one afternoon.

The months of the year, from January up to June, are a geometric progression in the abundance of distractions.

SOME PAINTINGS become famous because, being durable, they are viewed by successive generations, in each of which are likely to be found a few appreciative eyes. I know a painting so evanescent that it is seldom viewed at all, except by some wandering deer. It is a river who wields the brush, and it is the same river who, before I can bring my friends to view his work, erases it forever from human view. After that it exists only in the mind's eye.

I sit in happy meditation on my rock, pondering, while my line dries again, upon the ways of trout and men. How like fish we are: ready, nay eager, to seize upon whatever new thing some wind of circumstance shakes down upon the river of time! And how we rue our haste, finding the gilded morsel to contain a hook.

The religions whose theology is least preoccupied with events in time and most concerned with eternity, have been consistently less violent and more humane in political practice. Unlike early Judaism, Christianity and Mohammedanism (all obsessed with time) Hinduism and Buddhism have never been persecuting faiths,have preached almost no holy wars and have refrained from that proselytizing religious imperialism which has gone hand in hand with political and economic oppression of colored people.