Quotes
Quotes about Time
There is nothing that exasperates people more than a display of superior ability or brilliance in conversation. They seem pleased at the time, but their envy makes them curse the conversationalist in their heart.
It may be true that you can't fool all the people all the time, but you can fool enough of them to rule a large country.
Sometimes democracy must be bathed in blood.
And were it not that they are loath to lay out money on a rope, they would be hanged forthwith, and sometimes die to save charges.
Friends love misery, in fact. Sometimes, especially if we are too lucky or too successful or too pretty, our misery is the only thing that endears us to our friends.
People talk about the courage of condemned men walking to the place of execution: sometimes it needs as much courage to walk with any kind of bearing towards another person's habitual misery.
Threescore years and ten is enough; if a man can't suffer all the misery he wants in that time, he must be numb.
There is nothing so wretched or foolish as to anticipate misfortunes. What madness it is in your expecting evil before it arrives! [Lat., Nil est nec miserius nec stultius quam praetimere. Quae ista dementia est, malum suum antecedere!]
My mission is to kill time, and time's to kill me in its turn. How comfortable one is among murderers.
The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.
Mel Karmazin is meretricious. His Viacom is avaricious His CBS is quite litigious His public nudity is planned and vicious. His Likud Party is vengeful, vicious. It's time to exorcise the legions which have entered Karmazin through spirit lesions.
Money, which is of very uncertain value, and sometimes has no value at all and even less.
Money is the seed of money, and the first guinea is sometimes more difficult to acquire than the second million.
I'm tired of love, I'm still more tired of rhyme, but money gives me pleasure all the time.
I have reared a memorial more enduring than brass, and loftier than the regal structure of the pyramids, which neither the corroding shower nor the powerless north wind can destroy; no, not even unending years nor the flight of time itself. I shall not entirely die. The greater part of me shall escape oblivion. [Lat., Exegi monumentum aera perennius Regalique situ pyramidum altius, Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens Possit diruere aut innumerabilis Annorum series et fuga temporum. Non omnis moriar, multaque pars mei Vitabit Libitinam.]
If we work upon marble it will perish. If we work upon brass time will efface it. If we rear temples they will crumble to dust. But if we work upon men's immortal minds, if we imbue them with high principles, with the just fear of God and love of their fellow men, we engrave on those tablets something which no time can efface, and which will brighten and brighten to all eternity.
I'm one of the undeserving poor . . . up ugen middle-class morality all the time . . . . What is middle-class morality? Just an excuse for never giving me anything.
Everywhere, the ethical predicament of our time imposes itself with an urgency which suggests that even the question "Have we anything to eat?" will be answered not in material but in ethical terms.
That flesh is but the glasse, which holds the dust That measures all our time; which also shall Be crumbled into dust.
Be happy while y'er leevin, For y'er a lang time deid.
Getting rid of a man without hurting his masculinity is a problem. 'Get out' and 'I never want to see you again' might sound like a challenge. If you want to get rid of a man, I suggest saying, 'I love you.... I want to marry you.... I want to have your children.' Sometimes they leave skid marks.
'Why don't you come up sometime 'n see me? I'm home every evening.... Come up. I'll tell your fortune.... Ah, you can be had.'
If two men on the same job agree all the time, then one is useless. If they disagree all the time, then both are useless.
Sometimes in movies, I still have to be the hero, but it's not all that important to me anymore.
O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as the time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves-- Hides her fruit under them, hard to find. . . . . But by and by, when the flowers grow few And the fruits are dwindling and small to view-- Out she comes in her matron grace With the purple myriads of her race; Full of plenty from root to crown, Showering plenty her feet adown. While far over head hang gorgeously Large luscious berries of sanguine dye, For the best grows highest, always highest, Upon the mulberry-tree.
