Nicholas Sparks Quotes

Going home is not necessarily a wonderful experience. It always comes with a sense of loss and makes you so conscious of the inexorable passage of time.

Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!

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

Because it is senior year I have begun to see things as potential absences. The things I love will become the things I'll miss.

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

It had been so long since she had seen him and she had lived on memories until they were worn thin.

O Time and change! - with hair as gray as was my sire's that winter day, how strange it seems, with so much gone of life and love, to still live on!

You wake up one morning, those years are gone. There's a comfort in this fact perhaps. I want to think that there must be comfort in all facts we can't alter.

If you travel in time and space, most of the people you know and love will eventually be gone. But you'll also be able to go and find them again.

Something that required the best of you has ended. You will miss it.

I long for the time of no more departures. It has something to do with age, probably.

I miss playing with Miles. I did play with him a little while before he left the planet, but even at that time I longed to maybe do some things together.

I'm just fascinated by the past. You know, both by the possibilities it holds and by the complete tyranny of it, the way it sort of keeps you in this stranglehold and makes you want things that you no longer have and you can never get back.

I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?

The notion of time bothers me. You look at thirty-year-old photographs and realize how the time has passed.

Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.

That's the terrible thing about growing up. You lose friends. It's inevitable. It's not like it's a surprise. But it is terrible.

Seems like we always spend the best part of our time just saying goodbye.

But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth me Upon my yowthe, and on my jolitee, It tickleth me aboute myn herte roote. Unto this day it dooth myn herte boote That I have had my world as in my tyme. But age, alias! that al wole envenyme, Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith. Lat go, farewel! the devel go therwith! The flour is goon, ther is namoore to telle; The bren, as I best kan, now most I selle.

No magic. I do believe you might have taken it all with you when you went away.

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

Betty inhales sharply, 'It's just I thought I had lost you forever.' Oh, Betty, don't you know there's no such thing as forever?

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")

Time was such an odd thing. One moment you could talk to someone, then suddenly, they were gone.