Quotes About Time

If I get the forty additional years statisticians say are likely coming to me, I could fit in at least one, maybe two new lifetimes. Sad that only one of those lifetimes can include being the mother of young children.

That the relationship would end in acrimony was not a foregone conclusion, for the Poland that Ukraine joined with Iogaila's marriage to Jadwiga was a country ahead of its time.

What can I expect here? You know the fairy tale about the man who died, don't you? He was waiting in Eternity to find out what the Lord had decided to do with him. He waited and waited, for one year, ten years, a hundred years. He begged and pleaded for a decision. Finally he couldn't bear the waiting any longer. Then they said to him: 'What do you think you're waiting for? You've been in Hell for a long time already.

For the first time back then, I thought about everything seriously. The past and the future, both equally unknowable, and also this ongoing situation that the consulates call "transitory" but that we know in everyday language as "the present.

When I was still a living man in the life that I lived, I met a young fellow. His name was George. I latched on to him. We shared our pain and joy. He was much younger than I was. I valued everything about young George. In that young man I found again everything I prized in life. Now he has as little to do with me as a living man does with a dead one. May he think of me from time to time, if he has the time for it. I know that the living are very busy.

If you in the morning Throw minutes away, You can't pick them up In the course of a day. You may hurry and scurry, And flurry and worry, You've lost them forever, Forever and aye.

They had to get him out of here, whatever the cost to the newspaper. She checked her phone again – it was only five thirty back in Glasgow. But she had to make the call now before her battery died.

recent survey indicated that people who've had plastic surgery appeared to have shed only three years on average off of their age. Which three years, I wonder? Fourteen to seventeen were relatively breezy but I barely slept for the first three years of my son's life and if I could reverse that damage, it might be worth it.

Remember me but forget my fate.

Yet the British group did not have the legislative focus of the Germans. 'We do not think', they declared, 'the time has yet arrived in England for a similar demand to be made

Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust

Human females, they're kind of crazy during this time aren't they? If you chose to believe the stories written by male writers. They heard a bang and thump from the kitchen. Followed by Meg yelling at something. That many males can't be wrong.

Forgiveness doesn't work that way. You may want to forgive, but you can't do it yet. Forgiving someone can take weeks, months, years. Sometimes it takes a lifetime.

The courtyard kept changing, dazzling her with the flowers that bloomed between one day and the next, with the bare branches of trees that were swollen with the buds of new leaves and then fuzzed with green. Every day, she drove a familiar road through a new place.

The moon waxes and wanes. The tides ebb and flow. The seasons turn, each in their own time. Ever changing, never changing. Of course you'll change. The dance of life spirals, remember? Even when you return to a point, you're not in the same place. The dance would have changed you, whether you'd come here or stayed home.

It felt like forever, and since I hadn't gone back inside the house to get my wristwatch before we headed out, time was measured by how it felt.

Human females. They're kind of crazy during this time, aren't they?" "If you choose to believe the stories written by male writers," Vlad replied. They heard a bang and thump from the kitchen, followed by Meg yelling at something. Simon sighed. "That many males can't be wrong.

Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.

O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things, That draws oblivion's curtains over kings; Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a record are forgot, Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th' dust Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time's rust; But he whose name is graved in the white stone Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.

And although thus short, we shorten many ways, Living so little while we are alive; In eating, drinking, sleeping, vain delight So unawares comes on perpetual night, And puts all pleasures vain unto eternal flight.

And time brings down what is both strong and tall.

You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827.

You may have as many words as you please -- only I can't stay to hear them.

At your time of life, it's love that rules the roast: at mine, it's solid, serviceable gold.