Best 236 quotes in «time passing quotes» category

We knew it was only a moment. Our days of cool were numbered. Even when we were in it, right now was already gone. We didn’t know what it would be. Maybe a man. A baby. A death. What we knew was that soon, we’d pass thirty and get wrapped up in dull, adult things with no time or energy leftover to work at being cool. Just like that. Whoosh. Zoom. It’s over, and we’re here. From past to present.

...we're not eighteen anymore. We've lived. We've created things that last – things of joy, and things of burden.

We used numbers and rigid systems to fit time into containers we could understand. But like Nexa said, it was immeasurable. A fluid river no logical structure could hold. A moment could have the power of years. And years could pass in a moment. The only thing that forever remained true about time was it never stopped moving forward.

Whatever time is giving us, it will take everything back!

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

What occupied his full mind was time itself; time passing: he was concentrating

What is time? How is it measured? Why do we measure it? What is its purpose?" -Mr. Ludwig

When you have a bad year, there is this need to package it up and write it off-as I have done in the past. I hope, in 2014, when things go badly-people create themselves a New Years’s day the moment they need it. Don’t make 12 resolutions in January but one with every breath. Don’t wait until December 31st to start anew.You can divide time with months and days and weeks-but each minute is only a minute long and belongs completely to itself. What you do in those tiny moments that seem so inconsequential are what will define not only your year-but your life

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.

...what still blew them all away was time itself, the days and months and the years, oh yes, the years. They went faster than anything man had the capacity to invent, so fast that for a while they fooled you into thinking they were slow, and was there any crueler trick than that?

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...

When you have a watch, time is like a swimming pool. There are edges and sides. Without a watch, time is like the ocean. Sloppy and vast.

When you see a new day, you must see a new reason to think anew. You must see a new reason to start anew regardless of the woes of yesterday. You must see a reason to understand and appreciate the real gift of life knowing that you have yet another chance to prove your existence on earth worthy or not. You must see a new reason to choose positive thoughts to negative thoughts. You must see the real reason to rejoice, breathe a sigh of purposefulness and be poised to do something unique. You must see! oh yes! you must see a new reason and the urgency to live and leave a distinctive footprint

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

You are nothing but a number of days, and whenever a day passes away, a part of you passes away

Whether he talked or not made little difference to my mood. My only enemy was the clock on the dashboard, whose hands would move relentlessly to one o'clock. We drove east, we drove west, amidst the myriad villages that cling like limpets to the Mediterranean shore, and today I remember none of them. All I remember is the feel of the leather seats, the texture of the map upon my knee, its frayed edges, its worn seams, and how one day, looking at the clock, I thought to myself, 'This moment now, at twenty past eleven, this must never be lost, ' and I shut my eyes to make the experience more lasting. When I opened my eyes we were by a bend in the road, and a peasant girl in a black shawl waved to us; I can see her now, her dusty skirt, her gleaming, friendly smile, and in a second we had passed the bend and could see her no more. Already she belonged to the past, she was only a memory. I wanted to go back again, to recapture the moment that had gone, and then it came to me that if we did it would not be the same, even the sun would be changed in the sky, casting another shadow, and the peasant girl would trudge past us along the road in a different way, not waving this time, perhaps not even seeing us. There was something chilling in the thought, something a little melancholy, and looking at the clock I saw that five more minutes had gone by. Soon we would have reached our time limit, and must return to the hotel. 'If only there could be an invention', I said impulsively, 'that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again." (Rebecca, chapter five)

White hair reminds you that time has finally caught up with you

You can’t replay time.

You stayed because you’d invested so much time in your relationship that it would be a waste to walk away.

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.

You have got to own your days and live them, each one of them, every one of them, or else the years go by and none of them belong to you.

I am old enough to know that time passing is just a trick, a convenience. Everything is always there, still unfolding, still happening. The past, the present, and the future, in the noggin eternally, like brushes, combs and ribbons in a handbag.

Time was passing like a hand waving from a train that I wanted to be on.

The best thing about time passing is the privilege of running out of it, of watching the wave of mortality break over me and everyone I know.

There are some moments you'd rather sleep through, pass from point A to point B without awareness of the time passing or the events that carry you from present to future. And it's mostly those moments in which it's smarter-safer- to stay awake.

Time, as is well known, sometimes flies like a bird and sometimes crawls like a worm, but human beings are generally particularly happy when they don't notice whether it's passing quickly or slowly.

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

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

All human progress is in a circle; or, to use a more accurate and beautiful figure, in an ascending spiral curve. While we fancy ourselves going straight forward, and attaining, at every step, an entirely new position of affairs, we do actually return to something long ago tried and abandoned, but which we now find etherealized, refined, and perfected to its ideal. The past is but a coarse and sensual prophecy of the present and the future.

All things are made beautiful at a timely hour.

David Park is a physicist and philosopher at Williams College in Massachusetts with a lifelong interest in a time which he too thinks doesn't pass. For Park, the passage of time is not so much an illusion as a myth, "because it involves no deception of the senses.... One cannot perform any experiment to tell unambiguously whether time passes or not." This is certainly a telling argument. After all, what reality can be attached to a phenomenon that can never be demonstrated experimentally? In fact, it is not even clear how to think about demonstrating the flow of time experimentally. As the apparatus, laboratory, experimenter, technicians, humanity generally and the universe as a whole are apparently caught up in the same inescapable flow, how can any bit of the universe be "stopped in time" in order to register the flow going on in the rest of it? It is analogous to claiming that the whole universe is moving through space at the same speed—or, to make the analogy closer, that space is moving through space. How can such a claim ever be tested?

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.

And then there is that day when all around, all around you hear the dropping of the apples, one by one, from the trees. At first it is one here and one there, and then it is three and then it is four and then nine and twenty, until the apples plummet like rain, fall like horse hoofs in the soft, darkening grass, and you are the last apple on the tree; and you wait for the wind to work you slowly free from your hold upon the sky, and drop you down and down. Long before you hit the grass you will have forgotten there ever was a tree, or other apples, or a summer, or green grass below, You will fall in darkness...

A time past is an essence gone

A new day is here! yesterday is gone! tomorrow is preparing to come! but why is today here?

As soon as you wink, you close your eyes to reality.

At the end of your life's journey, what do you want to say you did with your time? There is enough time if you choose to invest it in yourself. Inch by inch, day by day . . . make yourself a priority.

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

Sana: – Tanto 2 o 3 mesi passano in fretta! Mamma: – (narrando) Si separano tranquillamente, dicendosi che due o tre mesi passeranno in fretta… Ma quei bambini non sanno… …che per loro il tempo scorre moooolto più lentamente che per gli adulti.

Because time does the job, dynamite can't touch. (Samuel Hamilton)

But even in this card, as in all cards: transience. The faces in the crowd — faces that will watch the every move of the lordly All-Star in the foreground — have been blurred to something like Monet’s lily pads, those hypnotic omens of the inevitable dusk into which we’ll all dissolve. All names, even those of the greatest among us, will eventually unravel to silence.

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 have an understanding of time, and a respect for memory and its subtle victory over the remorselessness of time.

Be them good times, Be them bad times, I swear to you They never last!

Dare to keep moving when it is a must and there to keep waiting when you have to, but note, you shall always keep waiting if you keep waiting and you shall always keep moving when you keep moving!

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

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 sheets as we lie in the wetness.

By and by we shall say goodbye

can I ask you a simple but complex question? Why are you still alive and living?

Dare to keep moving when it is a must and dare to keep waiting when you have to, but note, you shall always keep waiting if you keep waiting and you shall always keep moving when you keep moving!

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