Quotes about time-passing

children spend their time for they think they have more time adults cry over their time for they see they have less time

An important memory is like a gravitational field--the mind is compelled to return to it again and again. It is like a moon it lives in light and shadow.

People who kill time are themselves not alive.

Time is much more valuable than money.

Sometimes... the smallest drops in the bucket make the biggest ripples.

I do love that tune - but really, I must go home. I only meant to stay for a few minutes.

The summer stretched out the daylight as if on a rack. Each moment was drawn out until its anatomy collapsed. Time broke down. The day progressed in an endless sequence of dead moments.

Sala called for more drink and Sweep brought four rums, saying they were on the house. We thanked him and sat for another half hour, saying nothing. Down on the waterfront I could hear the slow clang of a ship’s bell as it eased against the pier, and somewhere in the city a motorcycle roared through the narrow streets, sending its echo up the hill to Calle O’Leary. Voices rose and fell in the house next door and the raucous sound of a jukebox came from a bar down the street. Sounds of a San Juan

Time flows like memories on the shores of the past.

Do anything that you want to do other than what you are required to do...success will surely go to others.

Next time, mind the time! So many people waste their time as if they are so sure of the next time, but no one is all that very sure, with all certainty, of what is in next time! Next time, mind the time!

Don't waste time with people who waste time. Time is precious, fragile as a butterfly wing, meaningful as an orgasm.

When you think about how time is passing, think about how you can use what is passing with time. You can't stop time but you can use or misuse what is passing with time

Time is priceless gift.Time defined moments.Time lost can not be redefined.May you find the value of time as your greatest wealth.

One of the very worst uses of time is to do something very well that need not to be done at all.

TIME: Today Is My Everything

Time: no start no end, the most powerful force in nature, killing more people than 100 atomic bombs, generating thoughts & ideas. Devil&Good

Fast car . . . You can drive anywhere in just a few minutes and time becomes just another thing we take advantage of never appreciating each moment that passes as a blessing from God.

Time flies but books are timeless...

The question isn't whether I have time to read or not (time that nobody will ever give me, by the way), but whether I'll allow myself the pleasure of being a reader.

Time was unending when charmed, captivated, even delighted by the mystical motion of the ocean!

Entire years had passed when he was rich enough in time to disregard the loose change of a minute, but now he obsessed over each one, this minute, the next minute, the one following, all of which were different terms for the same illusion.

It is we who move through time, not the reverse. When we walk beyond any one of life’s instants, it becomes nothing more than a receding milestone. We can look back, but we cannot retrace our steps. The past remains stationary, while we are doomed to move ever onwards. To do otherwise is against nature.

Some only learn the value of time when it’s too late!

Everything turns slower when she’s not around, but when she’s with me, an hour feels like a blink of an eye.

Until now, I've been writing about "now" as if it were literally an instant of time, but of course human faculties are not infinitely precise. It is simplistic to suppose that physical events and mental events march along exactly in step, with the stream of "actual moments" in the outside world and the stream of conscious awareness of them perfectly synchronized. The cinema industry depends on the phenomenon that what seems to us a movie is really a succession of still pictures, running at twent

Perhaps there are many "nows" of varying duration, depending on just what it is we are doing. We must face up to the fact that, at least in the case of humans, the subject experiencing subjective time is not a perfect, structureless observer, but a complex, multilayered, multifaceted psyche. Different levels of our consciousness may experience time in quite different ways. This is evidently the case in terms of response time. You have probably had the slightly unnerving experience of jumping at

In a way, a garden is the most useless of creations, the most slippery of creations: it is not like a painting or a piece of sculpture—it won’t accrue value as time goes on. Time is its enemy’ time passing is merely the countdown for the parting between garden and gardener.

Everything passes, but nothing entirely goes away.

To realize the value of 1 week, ask an editor of a weekly newspaper. To realize the value of 10 years, ask a newly divorced couple. To realize the value of 4 years, ask a graduate. To realize the value of 1 year, ask a student who has failed their final exam. To realize the value of 9 months, ask a mother who has given birth to a stillborn. To realize the value of 1 mont, ask a mother who has given birth prematurely. To realize the value of 1 minute, ask a person who missed the train, bus or pla

He had set up a telescope on a corner of the roof, and we went up to take a look.This is time travel, he said, narrowing an eye to set the lens. Because the light is old. We're seeing back in time.No, we said, wrinkling our noses. We are seeing right now, today.No, he said, the light has to travel to us and it takes millions of years. What you're seeing is time. Excuse me, we said. We were embarrassed to correct him. He seemed so smart. What we're seeing is space.It's space, yes, he said. It's a

You see, time is an ocean, not a garden hose. Space is a puff of smoke, a wisp of cloud.

Start from here, now is all you have, there will never be a better place or time and by tomorrow you would have lost more time.

I remember a new heaviness in my body, but maybe that's the work of time and my looking back.

Do not constantly spend your time complaining about a problem you may be having or may be up against, focus your time toward correcting the problem. Always remember, Time is value!

Seize the day, then let it go.

Time is quixotic because it can torment us. When we have insufficient stimulus to fill our lives, we resent the relentless quality of time, and we engage in activities designed to “kill time.” Time that passes slowly creates insufferable boredom; time that passes to quickly makes us aware of our accelerated death march. A person’s perspective on time depends mostly on what they are most afraid of, boredom or death.

Excerpt: Paradox – Bound By Blood. The hands on a clock never falter, not for a second. One day ends; and a new begins. If there was one thing on this earth that could be counted on, it was that. Time never paused to mourn the dead. That particular privilege is allotted to the living. It is for the survivor to mourn, bury the dead, and leave the rest to the earth. That is the way of it – the way of death - and the misery it leaves behind.

We cannot know what time will do to us with its fine, indistinguishable layers upon layers, we cannot know what it might make of us. It advances stealthily, day by day and hour by hour and step by poisoned step, never drawing attention to its surreptitious labours, so respectful and considerate that it never once gives us a sudden prod or a nasty fright. Every morning, it turns up with its soothing, invariable face and tells us exactly the opposite of what is actually happening: that everything

Although we try to control it in a million different ways, the only things you can ever really do to time are enjoy it, or waste it. That’s it.

There are a few things I've learned over the years. One is that time doesn't stop for anyone; hurdling forward and onward, unstoppable and catastrophic.

Never Waste Your Time, Otherwise one day Time Will Waste or Spoil You.

In the time that man has been here there is one thing that all have seen and gazed upon in wonder. Luna.

When you beat a drum, you create NOW, when silence becomes a sound so enormous and alive it feels like you're breathing in the clouds and the sky, and your heart is the rain and the thunder.

Until I met you," she said, "I never realized how precious each day could be. When I was working, each day was over before I knew it, and then a week just flew by, and then a whole year...What have I been doing all this time? Why didn't I meet you before? If I had to choose a whole year in the past, or a day with you-I'd choose a day with you...

She knew that this day, this feeling, couldn't last forever. Everything passed; that was partly why it was so beautiful. Things would get difficult again. But that was okay too.The bravery was in moving forward, no matter what.

I wonder if all mothers feel like this the moment they realize their daughters are growing up- as if it is impossible to believe that the laundry I once folded for her was doll-sized; as if I can still see her dancing in lazy pirouettes along the lip of the sandbox. Wasn't it yesterday that her hand was only as big as the sand dollar she found on the beach? That same hand, the one that's holding a boy's; wasn't it just holding mine, tugging so that I might stop and see the spiderweb, the milkwee

Life is funny...we never know what's in store for us and time brings on what is meant to be.

Life is funny...we never know what's in store us and time brings on what is meant to be.

making the most of every second, because seconds became minute sand minutes became precious when life could be taken in less than a breath.

Shadows fell on them like predators as the light went out.

Sleep makes the silence and the terrible fear go by more quickly, helps pass the time, since it's impossible to kill.

It gave an appalling idea of the value of an hour, and I thought I could never waste one again without remorse and terror.

But until this night, she had never once actually wet the bed. And now that she has, we just lie there in the accident, and the minutes of the clock keep changing, and the love I have for her keeps growing, and we both keep drawing breath. What was so horrible about it? Why had I always been so angry? What was my need to always be right? To win every argument with her? To out-stubborn a dog? And just like that, all the anger is gone. Released like the emptying of a bladder into soft cotton sheet

I needed a fresh start, away from the memories that we had made for him, away from the home that didn't feel like my own anymore.Away from the people that had been ready to welcome him. Away from Honour and Ali.

No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.

All that crap about time being a great healer is bullshit. Time heals nothing. Well, acne maybe.

Time is a treasure on earth.

Simple is the new complex

If you travel in space for three years and come back, four hundred years will have passed on Earth. I am only an armchair astronomer, but I have the odd sense that I have returned from a journey to a world where nothing quite makes sense.

...what happens tomorrow is the future but what happened yesterday is already part of on-going history...

did time exist before we could count it

the moon is just another kind of clock

for all I can really do isstand herein September’s rainsavoring…soaking it all inslipping..and simplyholding on to poetryfor dear life.

At the end of the day all we ever need is something that helped pass the time and something that keeps time from passing.

Time meant opportunity. After all, what more do we have than time? We measure it arbitrarily, but as we spend it, until it’s used up, it is called living.

Time was not a line, but an awareness. I was no longer a body, but a series of pieces whistling as they bonded. I felt every cell within me. I could count them, name them, kill them, and resurrect them. Within the core, I was a tower made of fossil fragments. I could be disassembled and reassembled. If only someone knew the correct pressure point, I would turn into a pile of elements running off to find another bond, like seasonal farmhands journeying from East to West.

Because with time blocking out the bad, memory is always bound to be a bit naive and stupidly optimistic.

But however minimal, however threadbare, it (collective memory) is ballast of a kind. We all need that seven-eighths of the iceberg, the ballast of the past, a general past, the place from which we came.That is why history should be taught in school. to all children, as much of it as possible. If you have no sense of the past, no access to historical narrative, you are afloat, untethered; you cannot see yourself as a part of the narrative, you cannot place yourself within a context. You will not

There is only one moment; its events are infinitely unfolding, increasing at every passing second—meaning that they were somehow compressed before. This moment was never smaller, but less beauty was exposed in the physical form, yet still this flower blooms. I think we tend to see time as the events alone; in this sense, we view objects as a means of measurement to time. But we forget the place of events in time is change. I am the measurement to my own happiness; time is the breadth of that bea

…this is the problem with photographs. After a while, you can’t remember if you’re recalling the actual memory or the memory of the photograph. Or perhaps the photograph is the only reason you remember that moment. (p.85)

I know this much: that there is objective time, but also subjective time, the kind you wear on the inside of your wrist, next to where the pulse lies. And this personal time, which is the true time, is measured in your relationship to memory.

Time is the great healer. No matter how difficult the circumstances that cross our path, it takes time for our emotions, minds and spirit to process what’s happened. Rushing to make choices too quickly can send us down the wrong fork in the road. It’s normal and natural to feel overwhelmed, out of sorts and confused when a major change knocks on our door. While you may be forced to make some choices quickly, delay as many choices as possible until time has worked its magic. When you feel on soli

When we are young we squander time as though it were unlimited; When we grow older, then like beggars we wish for crumbs of remembrance...

D'you know, Georgie," he said, settling back comfortably in the deep grass, that there song you've been a-singin' at all day - it ain't much of a song and it ain't much of a tune, but there's real good *sense* to it, though you probably don't know it. And I'll tell you why - because there always *is* new Folks comin', that's why. There's always new Folks comin' and always new times comin'.

I have lived, I have traveled the world, and now, like a worn-out clock, my life is winding down, the hands slowing, stepping out of the flow of time. If one steps out of time what does one have? Why, the past of course, gradually being worn away by the years as a pebble halted on a riverbed is eroded by the passage of water.

Time passes by, memory staysTorturing silently, rest of our days... Sigh!

It's the most unhappy people who want to stay alive, because they think they haven't done everything they want to do. They think they haven't had enough time. They feel they've been shortchanged.

Life's impermanence, I realized, is what makes every single day so precious. It's what shapes our time here. It's what makes it so important than not a single moment be wasted.

Manage your time and life.

Time unlived grows old Like unworn robes in a locked chest.

Man can never go backwards, but his past can light the way for his journey.

Ah, how quickly the hands on the clock circle toward the future we thought was far away! And how soon we become our mothers.

Tomorrow camewith the illusion of todayeven more fleeting than yesterdayit camelike it always comesand wentlike it’s always gonelike a favorite song in its final secondsTomorrow came and leftleaving nothingnothing...but a familiarlingeringsense of loss behind.

I am sad when I think that the years go by like sacks that we mark "Returned Empty," sad when I think that we shall be separated from one another and from ourselves.

In the wink of an eye, all quaint days of the past, the present, and future will meld together into the bottomless unknown of perpetuity. Only trace evidence of our invertebrate existence will anoint future generations. In the crinkle of time, our houses will crumble apart. Companies that we worked for will go out of business or merge with other nameless conglomerates. What will survive us are our children and our words.

Each generation searches their memories for time lost, feels the urgent exigencies of the present, and worries about the uncertainty of the future. Akin to preceding generations, how we live, the choices we make for surviving and loving, is our story.

We have become a shroud of delusion over reality. It is 'time' to accept that time is a created thing, it is not ticking... It is just a legal and economic system under which we are treated as property. Stop the glorification of busy...Stop feeding yourself with your own ashes.

They waited and watched, while the clocks seemed to resist time.

There are those of us who learn to live completely in the moment. For such people the Past vanishes and the future loses meaning. There is only the Present, which means that two of the three Aalim are surplus to requirements. And then there are those of us who are trapped in yesterdays, in the memory of a lost love, or a childhood home, or a dreadful crime. And some people live only for a better tomorrow; for them the past ceases to exist

Brass shines with constant usage, a beautiful dress needs wearing,Leave a house empty, it rots.

You don't have time, Len. That is the most bitter and the most beautiful piece of advice I can offer. If you don't have what you want now, you don't have what you want.

The illusion is time itself.

The sad truth is, John and I and the kids only took Route 66 once on our trips to Disneyland. Our family, like the rest of America, succumbed to the lure of faster highways, more direct routes, higher speed limits. We forgot about taking the slow way. It makes you wonder if something inside us knows that our lives are going to pass faster than we could ever realize. So we run around like chickens about to lose our heads. Which makes our little two- or three-week vacations with our families more

For children, childhood is timeless. It is always the present. Everything is in the present tense. Of course, they have memories. Of course, time shifts a little for them and Christmas comes round in the end. But they don’t feel it. Today is what they feel, and when they say ‘When I grow up,’ there is always an edge of disbelief—how could they ever be other than what they are?

You never know beforehand what people are capable of, you have to wait, give it time, it's time that rules, time is our gambling partner on the other side of the table and it holds all the cards of the deck in its hand, we have to guess the winning cards of life, our lives.

The lives of all people flow through time, and, regardless of how brutal one moment may be, how filled with grief or pain or fear, time flows through all lives equally.

The proper, wise balancingof one's whole life may depend upon thefeasibility of a cup of tea at an unusual hour.

Our ability to detect and measure the passage of time is burdensome. The conception and sensation of time bears down upon all of us. It weighs us down; it compresses our souls. There is a variety of ways to escape the dull passage of time or the fearfulness of our accelerating march towards death. We must choose our mechanisms for dealing with the inexorability of time and our finiteness. We can fill our void with work or pleasure, laughter or pain, and fretfulness or courage. We can seek a sens