The past is the present, isn't it? It's the future, too. We all try to lie out of that but life won't let us
This line from one of O’Neill’s characters was adopted for a History Masthead Slogan. See XXX.
It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words, "And this too, shall pass away." How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!
Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.
Remember that even if you were to live for three thousand years, or thirty thousand, you could not lose any other life than the one you have, and there will be no other life after it. So the longest and the shortest lives are the same. The present moment is shared by all living creatures, but the time that is past is gone forever. No one can lose the past or the future, for if they don't belong to you, how can they be taken from you?
A counted number of pulses only is given to us of a variegated, dramatic life. How may we see in them all that is to to be seen in them by the finest senses?
All objects exist in a moment of time.
Today is unique! It has never occurred and it will never be repeated. At midnight it will end, quietly, suddenly, totally. Forever. But the hours between now and then are opportunities with eternal possibilities.
I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
Life doesn't last; art doesn't last. It doesn't matter.
A day lays low and lifts up again all human things.
Time is an illusion. Time only exists when we think about the past and the future. Time doesn't exist in the present here and now.
Life is a precious gift - a gift we often take for granted until it is threatened.
Her life-that was the only chance she had-the short season between two silences.
Time flies never to be recalled.
Were you to live three thousand years, or even thirty thousand, remember that the sole life which a man can lose is that which he is living at the moment; and furthermore, that he can have no other life except the one he loses.
Never has the future become so rapidly the past.
When I looked at the painting I felt the same convergence on a single point: a flickering sun-struck instance that existed now and forever. Only occasionally did I notice the chain on the finch's ankle, or think what a cruel life for a little living creature - fluttering briefly, forced always to land in the same hopeless place.
Time is not a line, but a series of now-points.
Time is a circus, always packing up and moving away.
We live in a moment of history where change is so speeded up that we begin to see the present only when it is already disappearing.
People don't realize that now is all there ever is; there is no past or future except as memory or anticipation in your mind.
Time is the least thing we have of.
From my old neighborhood, I learned nothing was guaranteed, not even life itself. You better get it today, because tomorrow is not promised.
Our time on Earth is so random.