Ogden Nash Quotes

I feel like I don't have a lot of time left.

I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not.

You never know how much time you got.

Time is not a friend.

I tell myself to hurry up, that I have to do everything before death catches me.

The practice days, the walkthroughs, the bus rides - all those things you can't come back to. When you are getting into Year 15, you think about it. This thing is going to come to an end at some point.

Sunrise doesn't last all morning, a cloudburst doesn't last all day, seems my love is up and has left you with no warning. It's not always going to be this grey. All things must pass, all things must pass away.

Why is life speeded up so? Why are things so terribly, unbearably precious that you can't enjoy them but can only wait breathless in dread of their going?

I don't understand at best, I cannot speak for all the rest. But you may find a lifetime's passed you by. Every dog has its day, every day has its way Of being forgotten.

We write our names in the sand: and then the waves roll in and wash them away.

It’s hard to imagine that our love is a story with an end.

Tristan and Yvaine were happy together. Not forever-after, for Time, the thief, eventually takes all things into his dusty storehouse, but they were happy, as these things go, for a long while

Life is short but it is wide. This too shall pass.

The morning Sunne never lasts a day.

Sunsets are loved because they vanish. Flowers are loved because they go. The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they must depart. These are not the sole reasons, but at the heart of morning welcomes and afternoon laughters is the promise of farewell. In the gray muzzle of an old dog we see goodbye. In the tired face of an old friend we read long journeys beyond returns.

Six hundred and forty fish later, the only thing I know is everything you love will die. The first time you meet someone special, you can count on them one day being dead and in the ground.

This greatest mortal consolation, which we derive from the transitoriness of all things-from the right of saying, in every conjuncture, "This, too, will pass away.

Time drops in decay Like a candle burnt out. And the mountains and woods Have their day, have their day; But, kindly old rout Of the fire-born moods, You pass not away.

Everything alive must die. Every building built to the sky will fall. Don't try to tell me my everlasting love is a lie.