Quotes About Moments

At this moment" is a rare thing because only sometimes do I step with both feet on the land of the present; usually one foot slides toward the past, the other slides toward the future. And I end up with nothing.

I, alive and glimmering like the instants, spark and go out, alight and go out, spark and go out.

Haverá um ano em que haverá um mês, em que haverá uma semana em que haverá um dia em que haverá uma hora em que haverá um minuto em que haverá um segundo e dentro do segundo haverá o não-tempo sagrado da morte transfigurada.

Beyond thought I reach a state. I refuse to divide it up into words -and what I cannot and do not want to express ends up being the most secret of my secrets. I know that I'm scared of the moments in which I don't use thought and that's a momentary state that is difficult to reach, and which, entirely secret, no longer uses the words with which thoughts are produced. Is not using words to lose your identity? is it getting lost in the harmful essential shadows?

there are indestructible things that accompany the body to death as if they had been born with it. And one of them is what is created between a man and a woman who have experienced certain moments together.

I am telling of the instants that drip and are thick with blood.

Para ler, é claro, prefiro o atraente, me poupa mais, me arrasta mais, me delimita e me contorna. Para escrever, porém, tenho que prescindir. Não se faz uma frase. A frase nasce. A vida é mais longa do que a fazemos. Cada instante conta.

God perches in a tree chirping and straight lines travel on unfinished, horizontal and cold. That's what it seems like . . . The moments keep dripping ripe and no sooner has one tumbled than another rises up, somewhat, its face pale and tiny. Suddenly the moments end too. Timelessness trickles through my walls, tortuous and blind. It slowly collects in a dark, quiet pool and I shout: I've lived!

As coisas principais assaltavam-na em quaisquer momentos, também nos vazios, enchendo-os de significados.

It's like moments I had with you, when I would love you, moments I couldn't go past because I descended into their depths.

And from the instants I extract the juice of their fruits

Twenty times a day, twenty different beings demand and receive from us the gift of what is best within us: our whole life offered forever in a moment. Perhaps these miracles demand darkness and silence? Then it will not be a novelist but a poet who will come to reveal them to us in whispers. And we'll pretend to not have understood in order to continue to be able to understand.

Yes, and the body has memory. The physical carriage hauls more than its weight. The body is the threshold across which each objectionable call passes into consciousness—all the unintimidated, unblinking, and unflappable resilience does not erase the moments lived through, even as we are eternally stupid or everlastingly optimistic, so ready to be inside, among, a part of the games.

Yes, and the body has a memory. The physical carriage hauls more than its weight. The body is the threshold across which each objectionable call passes into consciousness—all the unintimidated, unblinking, and unflappable resilience does not erase the moments lived through, even as we are eternally stupid or everlastingly optimistic, so ready to be inside, among, a part of the games.

You put on your glasses. The trees, their bark, their leaves, even the dead ones, are more vibrant wet. Yes, and it's raining. Each moment is like this- before it can be known, categorized as similar to another thing and dismissed, it has to be experienced, it has to be seen.

Conviction, as Michelstaedter wrote, is the present possession of one's own life and one's own person, the ability to live each moment to the full, not goading oneself madly into burning it up fast and using it with a view to an all too imminent future, thus destroying it in the hope that life -- the whole of life -- may pass swiftly.

It's the small things that matter, the daily routines. We struggle and dream, strive for meaning, for purpose, but a pint with a mate in the pub or ten minutes in a café having coffee with your lover. These are the things that make us human, the things we remember.

The present time is the best time for reminiscing the pasts.

Philippe did not know how to express such a thought as: 'All too few are the occasions in life when, with mind content, eyes surfeited with beauty, heart light, retentive, and almost empty, there comes a moment for the senses to be filled to overflowing: I shall remember this as just such a moment.

Nevertheless, whether in occurrences lasting days, hours or mere minutes at a time, I have experienced happiness often, and have had brief encounters with it in my later years, even in old age.

You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss,A sigh is just a sigh;The fundamental things apply,As time goes by.

Remember this, if you can--there is nothing, nothing more precious than time. You probably feel you have a measureless supply of it, but you haven't. Wasted hours destroy your life just as surely at the beginning as at the end--only in the end it becomes more obvious.

They organized private recitals at their home, and on these occasions, they could be together, in silence, sharing emotions for which they were not responsible and which did not refer directly to the two of them. Precisely because they were so controlled and mediated, these were Benjamin and Helen's most intimate moments.

A certain amount of time is allotted to each of us. How much, only God knows. We cannot invest it. We cannot hope for a return of any kind. All we can do is spend it, second by second, decade by decade, until it runs out.