Marc Chagall Quotes

Time rolls his ceaseless course.

Time will pass and seasons will come and go.

While the river of life glides along smoothly, it remains the same river; only the landscape on either bank seems to change.

You cannot step twice into the same river.

Nothing is forever, but there's a continuing stream of people who go through our lives and continue with us... Nothing just stops and stays... But it flows on... Like a river.

Time is the River on which the leaves of our thoughts are carried into oblivion.

The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.

Be a river - not a reservoir.

The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.

History is a river that never ends. Today is history, and I am here at the fountainhead.

Time stays, we go.

We can none of us step into the same river twice, but the river flows on and the other river we step into is cool and refreshing, too

If you think you can grasp me, think again: my story flows in more than one direction, a delta springing from the river bed with its five fingers spread.

I was born by the river, in a little tent, and just like the river I've been running ever since.

What is the use trying to describe the flowing of a river at any one moment, and then at the next moment, and then at the next, and the next, and the next? You wear out. You say: There is a great river, and it flows through this land, and we have named it History.

Time only moves in one direction. Remember that. Things always change.

I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships, Change as the winds change, veer in the tide.

It's nice sometimes to be the river rather than the rock.

Stories are like a river that flows - you dip a bucket in it

There is no past or future. Using tenses to divide time is like making chalk marks on water.

The river where you set your foot just now is gone-those waters give way to this, now this.

Rhine. The river that, somewhere out there, has broken free.

Some say that time is like water that flows around us (like a stone in the river) and some say we flow with time (like a twig floating on the surface of the water).

O Time! Time! how it brings forth and devours! And the roaring flood of existence rushes on forever similar, forever changing!

Who looks upon a river in a meditative hour and is not reminded of the flux of all things?