Quotes About Time

Eternity isn't some later time. Eternity isn't some long time. Eternity has nothing to do with time. Eternity is that dimension between here and now, where thinking and time cuts out. If you won't get it here, you won't get it anywhere. The experience of eternity is right here and now is the function of life.

Eternity isn't some later time. Eternity isn't some long time. Eternity has nothing to do with time. Eternity is that dimension between here and now, where thinking and time cuts out. If you won't get it here, you won't get it anywhere. The experience of eternity right here and now is the function of life

The goddess is the field that produces forms. She is time and space itself, and the mystery beyond her is beyond all pairs of opposites. So it isn't male and female. Everything is within her, so that the gods are her children.

It is the sword distinguishing that which is enduring from that which is merely passing. The tick-tick-tick of time shuts out eternity. We live in this field of time. But what is reflected in this field is an eternal principle made manifest.

This death to the logic of emotional commitments of our chance moment in the world of space and time, this recognition of, the shift of our emphasis to, the universal life that throbs and celebrates its victory in the very kiss of our own annihilation, this amor fati, 'love of fate,' love of the fate that is inevitably death, constitutes the experience of the tragic art...

Schopenhauer's answer is that such a psychological crisis represents the breakthrough of a metaphysical realization, which is that you and that other are one, that you are two aspects of the one life, and that your apparent separateness is but an effect of the way we experience forms under the conditions of space and time. Our true reality is in our identity and unity with all life.

We can't have a mythology for a long, long time to come. Things are changing too fast to become mythologized.

The rainy Pleiads wester, Orion plunges prone, The stroke of midnight ceases, And I lie down alone. The rainy Pleiads wester And seek beyond the sea The head that I shall dream of, And 'twill not dream of me.

How long does getting thin take?" Pooh asked anxiously.

But now I am six. And I'm clever as clever. And now I think I'll stay six now forever and ever.

Sleep on your writing; take a walk over it; scrutinize it of a morning; review it of an afternoon; digest it after a meal; let it sleep in your drawer a twelvemonth; never venture a whisper about it to your friend, if he be an author especially.

When you get to my age life seems little more than one long march to and from the lavatory.

Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.

Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;And then the clock collected in the towerIts strength, and struck.

Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry nowIs hung with bloom along the bough.

Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;Breath's a ware that will not keep.Up, lad: when the journey's overThere'll be time enough to sleep.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold...

Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,Gold that I never see.

Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May.

And who can say whether my thoughts, independent of weight and time and the obstacles of matter, are not at the same moment being caught by mysterious, delicate, but unconscious receivers in the brain of an inhabitant of Mars as well as in the brain of the dog who barks outside?

Bound as our lives are to the tyranny of time, it is through what we know of history that we are delivered from our bonds and escape - into time.

we shall never be what we were again'. Old love's refrain.

The end of a summer day; Sweet love dead.