Anthony Horowitz Quotes

I am crumbling in sync with old Hackney.

What is a ruin but time easing itself of endurance?

Time is not a great artist but weakens all he touches.

What cities, as great as this, have... promised themselves immortality! Posterity can hardly trace the situation of some. The sorrowful traveller wanders over the awful ruins of others... Here stood their citadel, but now grown over with weeds; there their senate-house, but now the haunt of every noxious reptile; temples and theatres stood here, now only an undistinguished heap of ruins.

The true finish is the work of time, and the use to which a thing is put. The elements are still polishing the pyramids.

On the floor, and hanging on to the bar, squatted an old man, immobile as an object. His years had reduced and polished him as water does a stone or the generations of men do a sentence.

Some cities have fallen into ruin and some are built upon ruins but others contain their own ruins while still growing.

But time has set its maggot on their track.

In the 1970s and early '80s, Shanghai was quiet, cautious, a ghost of a once-great city - and yet physically, little was changed from its glittering heyday. When visiting, I enjoyed reading books on local history and used my time off to scope out the former haunts of gangsters and jazzmen.

If you keep feeling a point that has been sharpened, the point cannot long preserve its sharpness.

Onion rings in the car cushions do not improve with time.

Books have the same enemies as people: fire, humidity, animals, weather, and their own content.

Time is not kind to everything.

Antiquities are history defaced, or some remnants of history which have casually escaped the shipwreck of time.

There's nowhere like Detroit; it's a modern necropolis: all these art deco masterpieces crumbling away.

History's written from what can be found; what isn't saved is lost, sunken and rotted, eaten by earth.

As for myself, I'm attracted to venture into places with peeling paint, and areas that are crumbling a little bit. It makes sense because we've already established the photography focusing on architecture, even if it looks incorrect, there's something appealing about entering that.

With sharpen'd sight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears; The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years.

A frail gift is beauty, which grows less as time draws on, and is devoured by its own years.

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

The years as they pass plunder us of one thing after another.

The sun gives you ulcers, the wind gives you T.B. Once you were beautiful.

I'm falling into disrepair