Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana
Time was passing like a hand waving from a train that I wanted to be on.
Has it ever struck you ... that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going? It’s really all memory ... except for each passing moment.
In times like these, it helps to recall that there have always been times like these.
Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.
Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.
While we are postponing, life speeds by.
I don't want to sit on the sidelines and not value the gift of being here. Instead of the idea of time ticking away, the grains of sand running out, I try to think of time as giving me another grain of sand, another gift. So time passing is an accumulation, rather than a diminishing.
Neither can the wave that has passed by be recalled, nor the hour which has passed return again.
What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.
You learn something out of everything, and you come to realize more than ever that we're all here for a certain space of time, and, and then it's going to be over, and you better make this count.
Sometimes I just wanted to raise my hands and stop. But stop what? Maybe just growing up.
I you don't value your time, no one else will.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michaelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein.
Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its shortness.
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.
Time Like a petal in the wind Flows softly by As old lives are taken New ones begin A continual chain Which lasts throughout eternity Every life but a minute in time But each of equal importance
Time is a brisk wind, for each hour it brings something new... but who can understand and measure its sharp breath, its mystery and its design?
Before you know it it's 3 am and you're 80 years old and you can't remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart.
We have been conditioned to see the passing of time as an adversary.
Time whizzes by when you have children. They make you aware of the passing of time, but also help keep you young.
Warmth, perfume, rugs, soft lights, books. They do not appease me. I am aware of time passing, of all the world contains that I have not seen, of all the interesting people I have not met.
Be present, from moment to moment, right in the middle of the real stream of time. That gives you spiritual security. That is why in Buddhism we don't try to escape from impermanence; we face time itself in our daily living.
I feel an overwhelming rush of sadness... I'm just struck with a sense of time passing so quickly, rushing forward. One day I'll wake up and my whole life will be behind me, and it will seem to have gone as quickly as a dream.
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