Quotes About Time

You call them friends, Hannah," Mom lashes out, confronting me from the doorway with hands on hips. "But your connection to them is situational. Years from now you'll look back and marvel at what you could have seen in most of these people." "You're probably right," I say, because Mom's predictions have turned out to be right a surprising number of times. "But in three weeks, when the party is, they'll still be our friends.

In a mere twenty minutes, they'd blown past the desired point of meaningful-connection-through-shared-experience into the less appealing state of knowing-each-other-too-well.

You can , Scotty – you have to,' Bennie said, with his usual calm, but through his thinning silver hair Alex caught a shimmer of sweat on his crown. 'Time's a goon, right? You gonna let that goon push you around?' Scotty shook his head. 'The goon won.'" (p. 329)

Basic exchanges elongate like time-lapse fruits ripening and dropping into outstretched hands.

because at that point, the point at which my acceleration began to reverse, time started running together—there was no more arc of ascension by which to measure it.

Sasha looked at the windowpane, rinsed continually with rain, smearing lights in the falling dark. She lay with her body tensed, claiming the couch, her spot in this room, her view of the window and the walls, the faint hum that was always there when she listened, and these minutes of Coz's time: another, then another, then one more.

Bernadette longs for this moment as if it had already passed, as if it could have been. Yet here it is.

It's all still there: the pool with its blue and yellow tiles from Portugal, water laughing softly down a black stone wall. The house is the same, except quiet. The quiet makes no sense. Nerve gas? Overdoses? Mass arrests? I wonder as we follow a maid through a curve of carpeted rooms, the pool blinking at us past every window. What else could have stopped the unstoppable parties? But it's nothing like that. Twenty years have passed.

Th?i gian là má»™t k? kh?ng b?, ph?i không? C?u s? không ?? h?n xô ngã c?u ch?? Scotty l?c ??u. - K? kh?ng b? ?y Ä'ã th?ng.

Charlotte would always try to make it personal. It was the reigning habit of mind in this land without history, this era when all relationships of time and space, of cause and effect, had been obliterated by the touch of a key. And so people were adrift, lacking any context by which to orient themselves, seeking to fill the breach with personal history, that diminutive, myopic substitute.

By now it was afternoon. Ted began to walk, still dazed, until he found himself among a skein of backstreets so narrow they felt dark. He passed churches blistered with grime, moldering palazzi whose squalid interiors leaked sounds of wailing cats and children. Soiled, forgotten coats of arms were carved above their massive doorways, and these unsettled Ted: such universal, defining symbols made meaningless by nothing more than time." (p. 212)

History is retroactive math

Never trust a candy house! It was only a matter of time before someone made them pay for what they thought they were getting for free. Why could nobody see this?

The pause makes you think the song will end. And then the song isn't really over, so you're relieved. But then the song does actually end, because every song ends, obviously, and THAT. TIME. THE. END. IS. FOR. REAL.

Sure, everything is ending," Jules said, "but not yet.

We stand there, quiet. My questions all seem wrong: How did you get so old? Was it all at once, in a day, or did you peter out bit by bit? When did you stop having parties? Did everyone else get old too, or was it just you? Are other people still here, hiding in the palm trees or holding their breath underwater? When did you last swim your laps? Do your bones hurt? Did you know this was coming and hide that you knew, or did it ambush you from behind?

Time's a goon, right? You gonna let that goon push you around?" Scotty shook his head. "The goon won.

That we have some history together that hasn't happened yet.

Days in a house with children grind by like glaciers, but the years rush by like wind.

Each minute seemed like hours and hours. But then the years passed by like days.

I learned the terrible truth that as we morph from self to self over time, the love that one self has sworn can seem unfathomable to another.

Thought lengths it, pulls an invisible world through a needle's eye one detail at a time, ...

Show me a man of fifty who doesn't regret the lives he hasn't lived.

His explanation takes two minutes exactly. The shale lies a mile underground, has lain there since before there was a Pennsylvania, before a single human being walked the earth.