Quotes About Time

A bit late, but you know what they say." Beetle hazarded a guess. "You're late? What time do you call this? Where on earth have you been?" Silas looked baffled. "No. Better late than never." Beetle watched Silas Heap head across the Great Hall toward the Sealed lobby and heard one of the guard Wizards demand, "Silas Heap, where on earth have you been?

You are the man with the Magyk stone, aren't you? You always go out into the Time you came in?... Please, oh please, I beg of you," she said. "Take me Out." - Princess Driffa, to Septimus

Marcia's fine," said his older self. "And that is all you want to know right now.

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Youth is the time for loving, so poets always say.

one always seemed to be getting too old for something.

Love is a piano dropped from a fourth story window, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

That trip to The City could not have lasted more than a few days, but because my universe exploded and was expanding at such a rapid speed, time stood still. Each experience imprinted itself on me like it would a newborn child. When I came home I think I called my mother and told her I was moving to New York and I think she said something to the effect of, "I trust your judgment." It took me a few years, but eventually, that's exactly what I did.

We barely have time to react in this world, let alone rehearse.

Is experience worth one year, multiplied by ten years, good?' He meant that if we could do the same thing repeatedly, for a long period of time, we don't necessarily become wiser at it or in general.

Being an artist is a very long game. It is not a 10-year game. I hope I'll be around making art when I'm 80.

I felt as if I had more to learn than I had time on earth.

Time misspent in youth is sometimes all the freedom one ever has; that is why the gods are always young.

Time misspent in youth is sometimes all the freedom one ever has.

And I go to bed too early. I sometimes think I should never have married because I need too much sleep.

They had waited for too long, and the result was this hiatus, and the reflection that time and patience may bring poor rewards, that time itself, if not confronted at the appropriate juncture, can play sly tricks, and more significantly, that those who do not act are not infrequently acted upon.

I reminded myself of someone, but someone I had not seen for a long time.

Old times, sad times. I feel better about them now than I did then.

But there comes a time when books let you down. Surely that time had not arrived? But in comparison with a living presence there is no contest.

To Penelope, men were conquests, attributes, but they were also enemies; they belonged to the species that must never be granted more than the amount of time and attention she considered they deserved.

The amount of time she had at her disposal made it difficult for her to be late for anything, even for her own breakfast. And she suspected that even if she were to waste time she would still find a way to be entirely punctual, to the intense annoyance of those who had never mastered the art. For it was an art, less to do with courtesy than with modesty. Only grander personalities could afford to assume that others would wait.

Perhaps what I was registering was nothing more than the passage of time, to which one should pay great attention, lest one remain fixed in past expectations, without noticing how foolish one had become.

Not everyone is born to fulfill an heroic role. The only realistic ambition is to live in the present. And sometimes, quite often in fact, this is more than enough to keep one busy. Time, which was once squandered, must now be given over to the actual, the possible, and perhaps that evanescent hope of a good outcome which never deserts one, and which should never be abandoned.

The wheel turns and turns and turns: it never stops and stands still.