Quotes
Quotes about Time
And what's romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything As You Like It, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose and it's always daisy-time.
There comes a time in the seeker's life when he discovers that he is at once the lover and the beloved. The aspiring soul which he embodies is the lover in him. And the transcendental Self which he reveals from within is his Beloved.
If you aren't good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you'll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren't even giving to yourself.
Self knowers always dwell in El Dorado; they drink from the fountain of youth, and at all times owners of all they wish to enjoy.
They are borne along by the violence of their rage, and think it is a waste of time to ask who are guilty. [Lat., Trahit ipse furoris Impetus, et visum est lenti quaesisse nocentum.]
Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
Like fragile ice anger passes away in time. [Lat., Ut fragilis glacies interit ira mora.]
Anger may in time change to gladness; vexation may be succeeded by content. But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; norcan the dead ever be brought back to life. Hence the enlightened ruler is heedful, and the good general full of caution. This is the way to keep a country at peace and an army intact.
Anybody can become angry - that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.
Every time you get angry, you poison your own system.
Every time you get angry, you poison your own system. -Alfred Montapert.
anger is a short time time madness...
But I do mean to say, I have heard her declare, When at the same moment she had on a dress Which cost five hundred dollars, and not a cent less, And jewelry worth tem times more, I should guess, That he had not a thing in the wide world to wear!
Miss Flora McFlimsey of Madison Square, Has made three separate journeys to Paris, And her father assures me each time she was there That she and her friend Mrs. Harris . . . Spent six consecutive weeks, without shopping In one continuous round of shopping,-- . . . And yet, though scarce three months have passed since the day This merchandise went on twelve carts, up Broadway, This same Miss McFlimsey of Madison Square The last time we met was in utter despair Becasue she had nothing whatever to wear.
My galligaskins, that have long withstood The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts, By time subdues (what will not time subdue!) An horrid chasm disclosed.
Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the churchway paths to glide.
The difference between a man of sense and a fop is that the fop values himself upon his dress; and the man of sense laughs at it, at the same time he knows he must not neglect it.
My breasts are beautiful, and I gotta tell you, they've gotten a lot of attention for what is relatively short screen time.
Women thrive on novelty and are easy meat for the commerce of fashion. Men prefer old pipes and torn jackets. - You've Had Your Time, 1990.
And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger about the spot where once stood a homestead, but where there is now only a ruined chimney rising our of a grassy and weed-grown cellar? They offer their fruit to every wayfarer--apples that are bitter-sweet with the moral of times vicissitude.
Sweet April-time--O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys Of vanished springs, like flowers.
As all Nature's thousands changes But one changeless God proclaim; So in Art's wide kingdom ranges One sole meaning still the same: This is Truth, eternal Reason, Which from Beauty takes its dress, And serene through time and season Stands aye in loveliness.
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
A great artist is always before his time or behind it.
Art produces ugly things which frequently become more beautiful with time. Fashion, on the other hand, produces beautiful things which always become ugly with time.
