She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.
The future came and went in the mildly discouraging way that futures do.
Time is a slippery thing: lose hold of it once, and its string might sail out of your hands forever.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
Never waste a minute thinking about people you don't like.
Time spent with a cat is never wasted.
It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;βit is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.
The future starts today, not tomorrow.
Fantasy, if it's really convincing, can't become dated, for the simple reason that it represents a flight into a dimension that lies beyond the reach of time.
I always felt like I was meant to have been born in another era, another time.
I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.
The past is a ghost, the future a dream and all we ever have is now.
Punctuality is the thief of time
You will never find time for anything. If you want time, you must make it.
It is looking at things for a long time that ripens you and gives you a deeper meaning.
Inelegantly, and without my consent, time passed.
With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we canβt appreciate what we have
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.
Time will explain.
