Time is a healer. Time is God.
Time is the most valuable currency that we have, and yet it is the one that we waste the most.
Be patient my little wild one, wondrous things take time. A pearl is hidden before it’s refined. A diamond’s luster is dull before revealing brilliant magnificent breathtaking shine.
It may seem strange, falling in love with someone because of a gesture, but sometimes you can read an entire person in a single moment. The way you study a grain of sand and understand the universe. Love at first sight might or might not be a thing, but love in a single moment is.
She was the stars and the heavens and the oceans. There was nothing but that single fragment of time, and this bud of love we had planted inside it. And then, at some point after it started, the kiss ended, and I stroked her hair, and the church bells rang in the distance and everything in the world was in alignment.
Life = Time allotted to us! Let's not waste it on hatred,jealousy,anger!
I wish I could've done for you what time has.
All these openings for closeness--all these humans with their disappointments and their desperate hearts, but it's so much easier, so convenient, to blame emotional distance on a lack of time.
This is time for us. Memory. A nostalgia. The pain of absence. But it isn't absence that causes sorrow. It is affection and love. Without affection, without love, such absences would cause us no pain. For this reason, even the pain caused by absence is in the end something good and even beautiful. Because it feeds on that which gives meaning to life.
Time says “Let there be” every moment and instantly there is space and the radiance of each bright galaxy. And eyes beholding radiance. And the gnats’ flickering dance. And the seas’ expanse. And death, and chance.
A true romance is not something that happens between the skins. It is something that burns our souls beautifully and leaves us craving to be destroyed even more.
I think you loved me And I loved you But we never really did At the same time.
Time sometimes becomes very merciless, heartless -- it switches off the brightness of the eyes that you once loved.
The past may not last, but it leaves behind endless scars.
The longer you live, the harder it becomes. To grab them. Each little moment as it arrives. To be living in something other than the past or the future. To be actually here.
Time travel me back. Let me say good-bye again. A minute more, a moment, a chance to see. . .
Time never touched you. It touched me and then I seemed to regret everything. Your hair in my face, eyes in my mind, a darkness I found in you. But you don’t regret. You hold within. You feel in memory because love lost is still a love once had. You remember passion, conversations over dinner, moments interwoven before each other. We die to live, not die to cry over memories which don’t last our expected timeframe.
We’re meant for each other for a moment, but no one knows how long the moment lasts except the moment itself.
I told you I loved you, but I said it a little too late. You move in time and sometimes our timing is against one another.
She was his favorite sin. She was not a habit for him anymore, she was an obsession.
