Hours Quotes

Just remember even your worst days only have 24 hours.

When twilight sleeps holding the nightIn your arms you embrace me tightRunaway hours clenched by kisses More of your love my heart misses

Many a time, we live life without having access to the thoughts of how the hours of yesterday were spent. This comes to play because of lack of self-analysis and does not help in any way to create the excellence we claim to pursue.

Ehe, 24 hours have gone from my father dead. It was yesterday, he suicided yesteday in the morning. Even and more than 24 hours!

Minutes turn into hours that add up to days amounting to weeks that become  months melting into yearsaccumulating for decadesto pile up for centuriesand ultimately form minutes again―just on a grander, divine scale.

I've never really understood why people sleep. Wasting a third of your life and becoming vulnerable for almost 8 hours every night. Doesn't seem very appealing to me.

Those minute seconds, flip minutes into hours; hours turn into days, weeks, years, and all these happen in a fraction of a life; placed meagerly, amid this endless Universe.

People who have fully prepared always save time. Albert Einstein was right to teach that if he is given six hours to chop down a tree, he would spend the first four sharpening the axes. When you are done with your action plans, work will be easier!

Create time for yourself... There are 24 hours in a day... Outline the number to spend on your dreams every day!

Smart people that like good health spend several hours outdoors daily in the shade of trees.

Healthy people sleep eight hours,Wealthy people sleep four hours.

Plan the number of hours each day you’ll spend on your dreams, the kind of people you’ll love to connect with, the amount of capital you’ll want to invest and the sources of help you are required to get. Make a plan.

So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault.I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.

My hours are filled with fantasy and indifference. In day and night dreams, I think of my heaven with you. All the time in between, I carelessly spend in hell without you.

Tick. Tick. Tick. This is the sound of your life running out.

Your decisions in hours of failure would determine whether you will forever be where you are or you will move out of that situation.

Yesterday was the last day on the calender of the past. Tomorrow will be the first day on the calender of the future. Today is both the first and the last day of the present. Use it well.

He tried to measure his day by tallying the hours on his wrist.I wiped it off and called him a prisoner.He placed the hours on a scalewith hours from former days to compare.I took a hammer and broke it all.He bent down and picked up the shards of minutes firstthen swept the seconds.I told him he’d missed a spot;there were some sparkling specks left.'What are they?' he asked.'Those are moments,' I said.'What are they made of?' he asked.They are times, I thought, when you win a raceor win a heart.They are times when you give birth or lay something, someone to rest.When you wake up in the morning with a smile because anything is possible.When someone compliments the thing you hate most about yourself.Times when you are embarrassed.Times when you are hurtful.Times when you relish in a hearty meal.Times when you service others and are content with a well-spent day.'What are they made of?' he asked again.'They are made up of times when we are fully present.'I picked up one of the specks with the tipof my finger.'Do you remember this?' I asked.'Of course,' he said, 'I was whistling in the kitchen that morning.''Why?' I asked.'Because of the knowledge that I was loved.

The sand in the hourglass runs from one compartment to the other, marking the passage of moments with something constant and tangible.If you watch the flowing sand, you might see time itself riding the granules.Contrary to popular opinion, time is not an old white-haired man, but a laughing child.And time sings.

Two to three hours of studying a night, Is good medicine for the soul,I have tried this remedy,It never grows old

Although I understand that all days are equal with 24 hours each, most of us agree that Friday is the longest day of the week and Sunday the shortest!

The hours wear on, while the surreal atmosphere of the asylum does not wear off.

All this waiting.Waiting for the rain to stop. Waiting in traffic. Waiting for the bill. Waiting at the airport for an old friend.Waiting to depart. Then, there’s the big waiting: waiting to grow up. Waiting for love. Waiting to show youryour parents that when you have kids you’ll be different. Waiting to retire. Waiting for death. Why do we think waitingis the antithesis of lifewhen it is almostall of it?

Inconstancy of every second punishes me.The wind, the rain, the clouds, the days,I try to grasp the hours but they banish me,And I remain in the vortex of incongruity.The lone coyote shrieks,Startling my soul into wakefulness.The Cacti bloom and the Wren beckons,Deepening my mind into dreamlessness.And the moments spend time with inconstancy,increasing the ease of uneasiness.Why this daily pilgrimage of ideas?When no saint has ever ceased the day!Still yearning for some magic hour,Where nothing but permanence dwells.Alas, only this thought be the only truth,That certainty in death is constant.And so, in every second, minute, hour,our only gain is memory.Be it bitter or sweet:it is ours!Rejoice.

Unlike clocks, hours have no reverse motion..

A little time can help you to make a great impact, therefore you should never despise few minutes. Do it till it's done and done well!

You can learn things from a heart so bleedingWhen love bargains with deceitful pleading Hours soar from dawn to dawn splitting your time Don’t hear melody from a soundless chime

I'm two days away from day after tomorrowCounting the hours to my upcoming sorrow Suddenly I lookinto the eyes of my childThen all sadness goneas I smile the way she smiled

I’m not a follower. I never have been. But I’ll definitely become someone I’m not for a few hours if it’ll make me blend in rather than make me a blatant eye sore and draw attention.