All Quotes By Tag: Time

“Time is the most valuable thing that a man can spend.”

“But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you.”

“You need to make time for your family no matter what happens in your life”

“This life therefore is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not health, but healing, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.”

“Odysseus inclines his head. “True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another.” He spread his broad hands. “We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?” He smiles. “Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.”

“Months are different in college, especially freshman year. Too much happens. Every freshman month equals six regular months—they’re like dog months.”

“The past is a ghost, the future a dream and all we ever have is now.”

“You will never find time for anything. If you want time, you must make it.”

“Punctuality is the thief of time”

“With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we can’t appreciate what we have”

“It is looking at things for a long time that ripens you and gives you a deeper meaning.”

“There’s a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.”

“Time’s the thief of memory”

“We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infintesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future. We have no present. Our consciousness is almost completely preoccupied with memory and expectation. We do not realize that there never was, is, nor will be any other experience than present experience. We are therefore out of touch with reality. We confuse the world as talked about, described, and measured with the world which actually is. We are sick with a fascination for the useful tools of names and numbers, of symbols, signs, conceptions and ideas.”

“I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness―in a landscape selected at random―is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants. This is ecstasy, and behind the ecstasy is something else, which is hard to explain. It is like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that I love. A sense of oneness with sun and stone. A thrill of gratitude to whom it may concern―to the contrapuntal genius of human fate or to tender ghosts humoring a lucky mortal.”