Passage of Time Quotes

Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.

Time is the thief you cannot banish.

We begin to die as soon as we are born, and the end is linked to the beginning.

The years have gone by quickly. Death sits in the seat next to me. We make a lovely couple.

Life is long. But it goes fast.

Time is like a river made up of the events which happen, and a violent stream; for as soon as a thing has been seen, it is carried away, and another comes in its place, and this will be carried away too.

We are seeing, then, that our experience is altogether momentary. From one point of view, each moment is so elusive and so brief that we cannot even think about it before it has gone. From another point of view, this moment is always here, since we know no other moment than the present moment. It is always dying, always becoming past more rapidly than imagination can conceive. Yet at the same time it is always being born, always new, emerging just as rapidly from that complete unknown we call the future. Thinking about it almost makes you breathless.

You can't halt time.

Life is a predicament which precedes death.

A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth - and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases.

Time is the subtle thief of youth.

Life is apogee, apex, decline; life is death - and everything else is open to discussion.

An age that melts in unperceiv'd decay, And glides in modest innocence away.

How did it get so late so soon?

Time bears away all things.

But time is yet another of God's creations, and as such, it has a life of its own.

It's pretty scary to know how quickly time flies.

Every year you wait, long ago gets farther away.

Modern thought has transferred the spectral character of Death to the notion of time itself. Time has become Death triumphant over all.

Time was rushing around me like water around a big wet rock. The only difference is, I was not so durable as stones. Very quickly I would be smoothed away.

When a grown man reaches forty, we change him for an old one. He has completely disappeared. There's only the most superficial resemblance between the two of them. Nothing is handed on from one to the other.

We'll meet again. We'll meet when years have passed, and years make such a difference, don't they?

There is no more final end than death.