Quotes of: Ny-times Keyword

A life of joy awaits the man who sits alone quietly in a room and determines what he himself believes rather than simply adopting the values of another.

#Human: Learning To Live In Modern Times

It is easy to think of potatoes, and fortunately for men who have not much money it is easy to think of them with a certain safety. Potatoes are one of the last things to disappear, in times of war, which is probably why they should not be forgotten ...

How to Cook a Wolf

Rewards await you if you stay steadfast in your faith.

It's Your Time: Activate Your Faith, Accomplish Your Dreams, and Increase in God's Favor

Dustfinger still clearly remembered the feeling of being in love for the first time. How vulnerable his heart had suddenly been! Such a trembling, quivering thing, happy and miserably unhappy at once.

Inkheart

Time is such a waste of time to think about, because the longer you ponder it, the more of it you lose. And before you know it, you don’t know it, because you are nothing but dusty worm food.

I Should Have Renamed This

The sound is clear and strong as a bell, and it fills me with joy, and it's like, for the first time in my life, I understand that this is the point of laughter, to spread happiness.

Just One Day

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.

Jane Eyre

Time needs to be invested and managed wisely, much more seriously than money. Time is all you have, and you will realize it one day that you have less than what you think.

From the Rat Race to Financial Freedom

It’s true what they say, that words are the true weapons. Those who fight with steel are limited to the strength of their arm, the reach of their blade, and the timing of their strike; but those who fight with persuasion know no limits – not time...

Rise of the Morningstar

Time wounds all wholes. To exist in Time is to suffer through an endless exile, a successive severing from those precious few moments of feeling at home in the world.

Retromania: Pop Culture's Addiction to Its Own Past

A work in which there are theories is like an object which still has its price-tag on.

Remembrance of Things Past: Volume III - The Captive, The Fugitive, & Time Regained

The invention of the mechanical clock was one of a number of major advances that turned Europe from a weak, peripheral, highly vulnerable outpost of Mediterranean civilization into a hegemonic aggressor.

Revolution in Time: Clocks and the Making of the Modern World

For a long time, I was trapped in this struggle with my emotions about the single person in the world who was my family.

Sidonia's Thread: The Secrets of a Mother and Daughter Sewing a New Life in America

At twenty life was like wrestling an octopus. Every moment mattered. At thirty it was a walk in the country. Most of the time your mind was somewhere else. By the time you got to seventy, it was probably like watching snooker on the telly.

A Spot of Bother

I'm tired of carrying around the weight of the world. I'm just going to lay it down now. It's my time to die, and it's your time to live. Don't mess it up.

The Secret Life of Bees

Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, ...

Siddhartha

At one time in my life, a shapeshifted, demonically possessed maniac crashing through a window and trying to rip my face off would have come as an enormous and nasty surprise. But that time was pretty much in the past.

Small Favor

Darwinism is dynamic. It is about change, not stasis; about process, not pattern; about tales, not tableaux; about becoming, not being.

In Search of Deep Time: Beyond the Fossil Record to a New History of Life

For the first time I realized adults could back themselves into corners so remote that love, or its memory, could no longer reach them.

Moloka'i Nui Ahina: Summers on the Lonely Isle

Every time we made love, one of us cried. Mostly it was me, out of joy, but occasionally it was her, out of despair.

My love can only occupy one person at a time

I was thinking, that when my time comes, I should be sorry if the only plea I had to offer was that of justice. Because it might mean that only justice would be meted out to me.

Murder at the Vicarage