Tune into your own capacities and always make time for sleep
Expose your life to real need. Visit a developing a country. Take a short term mission trip. Write an inmate, send a letter to a sponsored child, serve in the inner city, at a food bank, with a crisis pregnancy center. Make time for shut-ins, the elderly, the sick, the single-parents, the new believers. Just find one way you can make your awareness of your gift-graced life intersect with a real place of need - and Christ in us will do the rest.
Keep playing games. Make time to play games with your friends and family, because it's surprisingly heartbreaking to wipe a thin layer of dust off a game you love, before you put it back on the shelf because the real world is calling you.
Doom hits the same frequencies that polytonic Buddhist chanting does, which is very hypnotic and makes time relative when listening.
In order to keep your husband, you have to make time for him. Rather than going out to dinner, I like to spend time for just the two of us.
I get up at sunrise. I'm a Buddhist, so I chant in the morning. My wife and I sit and have coffee together, but then it's list-making time. I have carpentry projects. We have roads we keep in repair. It's not back-breaking, but it's certainly aerobic and mildly strenuous.
When you get into this business you have to grow up quickly. But I wouldn't say I've lost any of my childhood, I've always been a mature child. My Mom says I've been like that since I was little kid. I make time for my friends and I make time for things that other kids do. This is a business and I knew what I was getting into. I make time for being a kid, but I also know when to put on my business hat and go for the business.
If something's important to you, you make time for it.
But will you not have a house to care for? Meals to cook? Children whining for this or that? Will you have time for the work?" "I'll make time," I promised. "The house will not always be so clean, the cooking may be a little hasty, and the whining children will sit on my lap and I'll sing to them while I work.
I sleep all day. Noises flit around the house- garbage truck in the alley, rain, tree rapping against the bedroom window. I sleep. I inhabit sleep firmly, willing it, wielding it, pushing away dreams, refusing, refusing. Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion. [...] It is afternoon, it is night, it is morning. Everything is reduced to this bed, this endless slumber that makes the days into one day, makes time stop, stretches and compacts time until it is meaningless.
I'm a spa person. Massages keep me relaxed, so I always try to make time for them when I tour.
Look at those numbers running. Money makes time. It used to be the other way around. Clock time accelerated the rise of capitalism. People stopped thinking about eternity. They began to concentrate on hours, measurable hours,man-hours, using labor more efficiently.
If time were a bolt of cloth,” said Om, “I would cut out all the bad parts. Snip out the scary nights and stitch together the good parts, to make time bearable. Then I could wear it like a coat, always live happily.
Barabas placed a stack on the table and held the chair out for me. “For you.” “I’m hungry and I don’t have time for this.” Barabas’s eyes held no mercy. “Make time, Alpha. You have two hands. You can eat and sign simultaneously.” Curran grinned. “Enjoying my suffering?” I asked. “I find it hilarious that you’ll run into a gunfight with nothing but your sword, but paperwork makes you panic.” Barabas put a thicker stack in front of him. “This is yours, m’lord.” Curran swore.
It is human life. We are blown upon the world; we float buoyantly upon the summer air a little while, complacently showing off our grace of form and our dainty iridescent colors; then we vanish with a little puff, leaving nothing behind but a memory - and sometimes not even that. I suppose that at those solemn times when we wake in the deeps of the night and reflect, there is not one of us who is not willing to confess that he is really only a soap-bubble, and as little worth the making.
I try to make time for reading each night. In addition to the usual newspapers and magazines, I make it a priority to read at least one newsweekly from cover to cover. If I were to read what intrigues me- say, the science and business sections - then I would finish the magazine the same person I was when I started. So I read it all.
If you make time for silence, the sacred will unfold.
...as parents, we have to find the time and the energy to step in and help our children love reading. We can read to them, talk to them about what they're reading, and make time for this by turning off the television set ourselves. Libraries are a critical tool to help parents do this.
...make time for one another. Don't forget about those date nights. Put on a sexy dress and some sexy high heels and have a great night and enjoy each other. Also, incorporate your husband. Get him involved and let him know how important he is with taking care of your joy.
Stan Lee always wanted to do another syndicated strip while we were doing Spider-Man. I was working two jobs, and he wanted to make time to do another strip. He wanted to do a humor strip. I said, 'Stan, I barely make it through the week now. How the hell am I going to do another strip?' He said, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I always forget it takes you longer to do a page than it takes me to do twenty pages.'
No court can make time stand still.
Our day-to-day lives are pretty chaotic. So in terms of the writing part, you have to get pretty disciplined about finding quiet moments and making sure you're making time for the art side, on top of all the time-consuming business side.
I would love to blog daily but I have not been making time for it because my internet is very slow. Everyone should make time for writing.
Music and time have such an interesting relationship. Music makes time fall away like almost nothing else. You hear a song from another moment of your life and it really is like you're still there. That's why the music of our youth ends up being particularly powerful. The coming of age music that you grab a hold of as the symbol or the expression of your independence and hopes for the future and anger and rebellion or whatever it is you're feeling is so powerful for the rest of your life when you hear it.
If we really want to love, if we really want to live, we must love until it hurts . . . No Rotarian whose motto is Service Above Self, I think, should call himself a Rotarian if he does not make time to serve . . . If we love, we begin to serve
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