L’éternité, c’est long … surtout vers la fin.
Life is defined by time, appreciate the beauty of time;
A time to plant, a time to harvest.
A time to cry, a time to laugh.
A time to be sad, a time to be happy.
A time to be born, a time to die.
Night-time is being brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
Never has nostalgia held stronger sway; never has the belief in the redemptive possibilities of the future seemed so laughable.
Love was something different. Love was pure delight, a fountain of emotions, sensual delights, and enjoying spending time together.
Time doesn’t age you; experience does.
As you get older you strip away the things you don’t have time for, and then you are left with only the things you have time for. Your life gets skinnier and skinnier until you wonder why you go on. You go on because there are things that must get done. You become no longer a person so much as a place, an unfunny place where things come to get done.
It is no great wonder if in long process of time, while fortune takes her course hither and thither, numerous coincidences should spontaneously occur. If the number and variety of subjects to be wrought upon be infinite, it is all the more easy for fortune, with such an abundance of material, to effect this similarity of results. Or if, on the other hand, events are limited to the combinations of some finite number, then of necessity the same must often recur, and in the same sequence.
Because this exact leaf had to grow in that exact way, in that exact place, so that precise wind could tear it from that precise branch and make it fly into this exact face at that exact moment. And, if just one of those tiny little things had never had happened, I’d never have met ya. Which makes this leaf the most important leaf in human history
MOTHER TIME: Every New Year is the same. Every day, every second is too for that matter. But when we deliver them in secret, when another year just begins as a matter of fact, it’s easy to fail to appreciate what a miracle it is to have more time. So, I suppose, it feels different right now because this time you’re paying attention