Jim Steinman Quotes

The calendar has a magic that makes us imagine a memory can be resurrected and revived, but nothing returns.

Something I tried to hold onto, to touch if only for a moment, but it slipped away from me like the air, like an illusion, or a dream that floats away and is lost. I wept in my sleep as though it was something I was losing now; a loss I was experiencing for the first time, and not something I had lost a long time ago.

Let me feel your love one more time before I abandon it.

Sharp nostalgia, infinite and terrible, for what I already possess.

Sweet Sometime, fly fast for me.

He lifts her breasts, which fit perfectly into his hands, though he knows this is no promise that he gets to keep them. A million things you can't have will fit in a human hand.

And her life will perhaps be the richer, for holding now within it the memory of what came, but could not stay.

How those fires burned that are no longer, how the weather worsened, how the shadow of the seagull vanished without a trace. Was it the end of a season, the end of a life? Was it so long ago it seems it might never have been? What is it in us that lives in the past and longs for the future, or lives in the future and longs for the past? (from "No Words Can Describe It")

From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned.

There's no ifs and buts or maybes, you're gonna miss, you're gonna miss my loving.

It’s just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights. I sort of feel they’re never coming again, and I’m not really getting all I could out of them.

Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand.

Night has brought to those who sleep, only dreams they can not keep.

It was not in me It came and went I wanted to hold it It was held by wine (I no longer know what it was)

You may win your heart's desire, but in the end you're cheated of it by death.

Not to hope for things to last forever, is what the year teaches and even the hour which snatches a nice day away.

I would have stayed forever within the garden of Re-mose's childhood, but time is a mother's enemy.

Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.

It was not enough to be the last guy she kissed. I wanted to be the last one she loved. And I knew I wasn’t. I knew it, and I hated her for it. I hated her for not caring about me. I hated her for leaving that night, and I hated myself , too, not only because I let her go but because if I had been enough for her, she wouldn’t have even wanted to leave. She would have just lain with me and talked and cried, and I would have listened and kissed at her tears as they pooled in her eyes.

Time, where did you go? / Why did you leave me here alone? / Wait, don't go so fast / I'm missing the moments as they pass

Things happen once only and are never repeated, never return. Except in memory.

Nostalgia is not what it used to be.

The right moment wears a full head of hair: when it has been missed, you can't get it back; it's bald in the back of the head and never turns around.

The only paradise is paradise lost.

There is no past that we can bring back to us by the longing for it.