Time

"If you keep waiting for the right time, it may never happen. Sometimes you have to make the most of the time you have."

"We are all migrants through time."

"What an unreliable thing is time--when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. ... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly."

"If we accept time for what it is, how it flows and how we flow with it, I doubt very much that would continue wasting loads of it by constantly checking our watches."

"Fifty years," I hackneyed, "is a long time."Not when you're looking back at them," she said. "You wonder how they vanished so quickly."

"Never waste any time you can spend sleeping."

"For after the Battle comes quiet."

"I don't have time, energy, or interest in hating the haters; I'm too busy loving the lovers."

"I hadn’t been a nerd, mind you. I’d just been the type of guy who spent a lot of time by himself, focused entirely on a single consuming interest."

"We shall never meet, but there is something I want you to know. My time is not the same as your time. Our times are not the same. And do you know what that means? That means that time does not exist. Do you want me to repeat that? There is no time. There is a life and a death. There are people and animals. Our thoughts exist. And the world. The universe, too. But there is no time. You might as well take it easy. Do you feel better now? I feel better. This is going to work out. Have a nice day."

"Time has a wonderful way to show us what really matters."

"We no longer have the luxury of spending our energy on anything that does not lead us and our families to Christ."

"At times I feel as if I had lived all this before and that I have already written these very words, but I know it was not I: it was another woman, who kept her notebooks so that one day I could use them. I write, she wrote, that memory is fragile and the space of a single life is brief, passing so quickly that we never get a chance to see the relationship between events; we cannot gauge the consequences of our acts, and we believe in the fiction of past, present, and future, but it may also be true that everything happens simultaneously. ... That's why my Grandmother Clara wrote in her notebooks, in order to see things in their true dimension and to defy her own poor memory."

"We love to buy books because we believe we're buying the time to read"

"Both described at the same time how it was always March there and always Monday, and then they understood that José Arcadio Buendía was not as crazy as the family said, but that he was the only one who had enough lucidity to sense the truth of the fact that time also stumbled and had accidents and could therefore splinter and leave an eternalized fragment in a room."

"It’s how I fill the time when nothing’s happening. Thinking too much, flirting with melancholy."

"Want to have a short phone call with someone? Call them at 11:55 a.m., right before lunch. They'll talk fast. You may think you are interesting, but you are not more interesting than lunch."

"You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute."

"An infinity of passion can be contained in one minute, like a crowd in a small space."

"This thing all things devours:Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;Gnaws iron, bites steel;Grinds hard stones to meal;Slays king, ruins town,And beats high mountain down."