Quotes About Time

Today's minor irritations may become tomorrow's treasured memories. We often don't know what we are missing, until it's missing.

The intricacy and the inherent beautiful fragility of the human soul is such that it is uniquely damaged and only God knows how to heal it, and it's going to take time.

One is that you have to take time, lots of time, to let an idea grow from within. The second is that when you sign on to something, there will be issues of trust, deep trust, the way the members of a string quartet have to trust one another.

It is a terrible fate to be a human, to be young and fair, and then so quickly to decay." "A terrible fate indeed: to grow, to learn, to love, to create, to let go. Some say it's a terrible fate to be a Faery; to stay unchanging and unfeeling for all eternity, to spend one's time in nothing but frivolity and pleasure-seeking," Sylvie answers.

If literature truly possesses a mysterious power, I think perhaps it is precisely this: that one can read a book by a writer of a different time, a different country, a different race, a different language, and a different culture and there encounter a sensation that is one's very own.

We were fishers of memory waiting on the banks of time and waiting for the past to swallow the date.

because my memory had caught up with the world that had gone away.

Chaque fois que je lis ces grandes œuvres, je me laisse entraîner par elles. Je m'accroche à elles comme un enfant craintif au vêtement de sa mère. Je me règle sur leur pas et j'avance tout doucement dans le fleuve du temps. C'est un voyage agréable où mille sensations se mêlent. Elles m'emmènent avec elles et me laissent rentrer seul, et de retour à la maison je me rends compte qu'elles sont pour toujours avec moi.

Si la littérature est réellement dotée d'une force mystérieuse, c'est bien celle-là: la possibilité pour un lecteur de retrouver ses propres impressions dans l'œuvre d'un écrivain d'une autre époque, d'un autre pays, d'un autre peuple, d'une autre langue et d'une autre culture.

This "me" of ten years before lay down amid the leaves and long grass and slept for two whole hours. During this time a few ants crawled up my leg, but even in my deep sleep my finger accurately flicked them off. I felt as if I had come to a shore, and the echoing shouts of an old man poling a bamboo raft seemed to reach my ears from far away. I awakened from my dream, and

En realidad no vivimos en la Tierra, sino en el interior del tiempo.

El tiempo nos impulsa hacia delante o hacia atrás y va alterando nuestro aspecto.

Even when we're with someone we love, we're foolish enough to think of her body and soul as being separate. To stand before the person we love is not the same as loving her true self, for we are only apt to regard her physical beauty as the indispensable mode of her existence. When time and space intervene, it is possible to be deceived by both, but on the other hand, it is equally possible to draw twice as close to her real self.

Human life is limited but I would like to live forever.

I've known supreme happiness, and I'm not greedy enough to want what I have to go on forever. Every dream ends. Wouldn't it be foolish, knowing that nothing lasts forever, to insist that one has a right to do something that does? [...]but, if eternity existed, it would be this moment.

In the pale light of daybreak the gravestones looked like so many white sails that would never again be filled with wind, sails that, too long unused and heavily drooping, had been turned into stone just as they were. The boats' anchors had been thrust so deeply into the dark earth that they could never again be raised.

With a heart unaccustomed to doubting, he never wondered for an instant whether the girl would brave such a storm to keep their rendezvous. He knew nothing of that melancholy and all-too-effective way of passing time by magnifying and complicating his feelings, whether of happiness or uneasiness, through the exercise of imagination.

very often a man's whole life alters course because of a moment's hesitation. That instant is like a fold made down the middle of a sheet of paper. In it, the underside becomes upmost, and what was once visible is hidden forever.

For everything sacred has the substance of dreams and memories, and so we experience the miracle of what is separated from us by time or distance suddenly being made tangible.

Because all those people around you and Miss Satoko are moving slowly but inexorably toward a dénouement. You don't think the two of you can hover forever in mid-air like two dragonflies making love?

Da li je bolest, u stvari, samo ubrzavanje života?

Perché i tempi sono degenerati fino a questo punto? Perché la gioventù, l'ambizione e la semplicità sono decadute e il mondo è diventato così biasimevole?

There was for me nothing that might have been called the pinnacle of my youth, and so no moment for stopping it. One should stop at the pinnacle. I could discern none. Strangely, I feel no regrets.

Beings in existence thus are annihilated from moment to moment, and this gives rise to time. The process whereby time is engendered by this moment-to-moment annihilation may be likened to a row of dots and a line.