Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Hourglass. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Hourglass Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Charles Dickens,Garth Risk Hallberg,Chris Abani,Suzanne Vega,William Blake for you to enjoy and share.
Hours are golden links
God's tokens reaching heaven.
anglepoise lamp.
It is easy to forget the decadence of glass. How some of us find it only in fragments. The glass between us and the world is often the measure of our wealth. Looking out at the world through it colors the hunger beyond.
Today I am
a small blue thing
Like a marble
or an eye
The hours of folly are measur'd by the clock, but of wisdom: no clock can measure.
The night stared me in the face, amorphous, blind, infinite, without frontiers. Not a single start relieved the darkness behind the glass.
For I am not Eternity, but a human being - a part of the whole, as an hour is part of the day. I must come like the hour, and like the hour must pass!
Midnight,
strange mystic hour,
when the veil between the frail present and the eternal future grows thin.
Listening to Evanescence makes me want to break up with a girl in real time as a giant antique hourglass falls to the floor in slow motion.
...the devil's hour, two o'clock on a summer afternoon--the siesta hour.
That Time could turn up his swift sandy glass, To untell the days.
In the kingdom of glass everything is transparent, and there is no place to hide a dark heart.
Old Time the clock-setter.
In our absence, the violet early evening light pours in the bay window, filling the still room like water poured into a glass. The glass is delicate. The thin, tight surface of the liquid light trembles. But it does not break. Time does not pass. Not yet.
I like to have glasses for day and night.
[Time is] a glowing puddle you carry in your hands; you should spend all your energy protecting it. Fighting for it. Working hard not to spill one single drop.
You are only three or four hours from taking your glasses off for keeps.
I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright,
And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years,
Driven by the spheres,
Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world
And all her train were hurled.
Time and I have quarrelled. All hours are midnight now. I had a clock and a watch, but I destroyed them both. I could not bear the way they mocked me.
Calendars and clocks exist to measure time, but that signifies little because we all know that an hour can seem as eternity or pass in a flash, according to how we spend it.
Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran .
He is solid; immovable, iron-willed. He showed me one day his killing bottle. I'm imprisoned in it. Fluttering against the glass. Because I can see through it I still think I can escape. I have hope. But it's all an illusion.
A thick round wall of glass.
Through the Looking Glass,
The changes are coming fast and blind now, and in your skull sits an hourglass with a grain size hole through which numb seconds are sliding.
Time is no river. Not here. In this tomb, time is the stone. It is the darkness, permanent and unyielding, its only measure the twin pendulums of life - breath and the beating of my heart. In.
Swift speedy time, feathered with flying hours, Dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow.
Who hopes for an hour hopes for eternity. The world in an hour. What follows is unseen.
And my eyes! I see through hourglass pupils and therefore I see time-as it affects all things. Even as I look at you now, Tanis," the mage whispered, "I see you dying, slowly, by inches. And so I see every living thing.
I am made of endless hours. Not just split seconds.
Yesterday, she began, speaking to his back, hurrying as though there was some element of him that was part hourglass.
The windows of my soul are made of one-way glass, don't bother looking into my eyes if there's something you want to know, just ask
His forty-third year. His small time's end. His time-
Who saw Infinity through the countless cracks
In the blank skin of things, and died of it.
Each day I live in a glass room unless I break it with the thrusting of my senses and pass through the splintered walls to the great landscape.
The world beyond the glass is the world of masculine action. Everything she sees is what a man has built. But at each turn-off, each junction, women are waiting to know their fate.
An hour is not merely an hour; it is a vase full of scents and sounds and projects and climates.
Your existence is passing before you. Grains of sand in the hourglass. The Wicked Witch of the West has you in her castle and she's turned the hourglass over and the sand is running through. Will you be liberated or will you die? The only way you can beat death is liberation.
Salvador Dali and fifty cents will get you a cup of clock melt.
Moonlight is sculpture.
Time I have only just a minute. Only sixty seconds in it. Forced upon me, can't refuse it. Didn't seek it, didn't choose it. But it's up to me to use it. I must suffer if I lose it. Give account if I abuse it, Just a tiny little minute but eternity is in it.
It was the hour in which objects lose the consistency of shadow that accompanies them during the night and gradually reacquire colors, but seem to cross meanwhile an uncertain limbo, faintly touched, just breathed on by light; the hour in which one is least certain of the world's existence.
But I was caught in an hourglass of colliding dreams.
If I could, I would stop the passage of time. But hour follows on hour, minute on minute, each second robbing me of a morsel of myself for the nothing of tomorrow. I shall never experience this moment again.
The ears were large, flaring forward, the eyes limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light: obsidian, emerald, ruby, opal, amethyst, diamond.
Time is the eternal now, seen through the narrow slit of the mind.
Time the devourer of everything.
Illegibility
of this world. All things twice over.
The strong clocks justify
the splitting hour,
hoarsely.
You , clamped
into your deepest part,
climb out of yourself
for ever.
Time is three eyes and eight elbows.
Perhaps life is like an hour glass, with dear ones the sand that slips from the upper glass
the earth
into the second
eternity.
The moon is at her crystal window / Spinning and weaving ...
Shape of eternal light, by my divine existence, it should shine in your decent thoughts.
Day lets her imagination free with an urban adventure that is not only fast-paced, but also erotic and addictive. [on Eve of Darkness ]
A time that is is neither day nor night, when the veil of illusion is thinner and we can see things in the lilac-tinged light that cannot be spied at any other hour
Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
Dude, the place is filling up," I say. "It feels like we're living in the bottom half of an hourglass."
Like somehow we're running out of time.
If you put a clock in a bottle,
with time it will crack,
as like money, as like love,
as like a beautiful mind,
empty of a soul.
If Zen has any preference it is for glass that is plain, has no color, and is "just glass."
afternoon in one of
Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.
[in] the whole of world history there is always only one really significant hour
the present ... [I]f you want to find eternity, you must serve the times.
How quaint the old twenty-four-hour clock began to look to our eyes, how impossibly clean-cut, with its twin sets of twelve, as neat as walnut shells. How had we believed, we wondered, in such simplistic things?
That hour o' night's black arch the keystane.
version of Amber.
there is no better looking glass than an old friend.
If time were a bolt of cloth," said Om, "I would cut out all the bad parts. Snip out the scary nights and stitch together the good parts, to make time bearable. Then I could wear it like a coat, always live happily.
It's the witching hour once more-
When the Muse comes out to play.
He calls me through that magic door-
Where galaxies of worlds await!
Moon like a large stainedglass window that breaks on the ocean.
He who lives by the crystal ball will eat shattered glass.
Time is the echo of an axe
Within a wood.
My bits of time play with eternity.
The way glass can be molded or blown or cut into any kind of shape made me think about how we as people - our characters or souls - can be shaped or changed by outside influences.
When you have a watch, time is like a swimming pool. There are edges and sides. Without a watch, time is like the ocean. Sloppy and vast.
There is a budding morrow in midnight.
Honor Lost
Ambulant sunshine pierced
the soot covered glass ~
the feeble man wandered by
in this ritual morning pass ...
Hours are golden links, God's token
Reaching heaven; but one by one
Take them, lest the chain be broken
Ere the pilgrimage be done.
Neither clock nor weather-glass is ever right; but we believe in both, devoutly.
Truly Time is a vast Denful of Horrour, round about which a Serpent winds and in the winding bites itself by the Tail. Now, now is the Hour, every Hour, every part of an Hour, every Moment, which in its end does begin again and never ceases to end: a beginning continuing, always ending.
Time, the foe of man's dominion,
Wheels around in ceaseless flight,
Scattering from his hoary pinion
Shades of everlasting night.
Nothing can be more airy and beautiful than the transparent seed-globe-a fairy dome of splendid architecture.
Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.
The Graff Hallucination is a sculptural masterpiece; a celebration of the miracle of coloured diamonds. For many years I have thought about creating a truly remarkable watch that illustrates our all-consuming passion for diamonds. The Hallucination has made my diamond dream a reality.
To beguile the time, look like the time.
The cool enchantment of evening has arrived after the prostrating heat of summer's day and we lie quietly in anticipation of Your luminous appearance - Mysterious Selene, Whose Lunar Orb relieves the dark of night.
I should throw my gold watch
into the ocean and become
timeless.
Million pieces of glass..more finer..upto the verge of disappearness..den a new reality ..life so called time travel through wormhole
Nocturne
Midnight. The moon
has set, and the Pleiades.
The hours pass
and pass, yet still I lie alone.
Sappho
I know this glass is already broken, so I enjoy it incredibly.
The horizon bounded by a propitious sky, azure, marbled with pearly white.
I ask you for the time of day, you tell me how to build a clock!
This earthly existence of ours is more brittle that the glass bangles that ladies wear.
Time is a face on the water
Today stretches ahead of you waiting to be shaped. You are the sculptor who gets to do the shaping. What today will be like is up to you.
Palace of Crystal
The bubbly play of wit, the chesty laughs, the resonant voices of men when glass in hand they shut the grey world outside and prod their brains with the fun and folly of an accelerated pulse.
The late afternoon sun, trapped beneath a wall of pewter, stained the clouds a yellowish gray, making the sky unusually bright. It felt surreal, as if the horizon had disappeared beyond the hills. She was stranded in a world of glass.
Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.
You can fulfill your whole life in one hour of inner seeing.
Turn back time to half-past innocence. But that clock's lying on its side, hour hand spinning wildly, in a dirty Dublin alley near a gold makeup pouch half concealed by trash, and an address carved in stone by a dying woman. Broken.
What very mysterious things days were. Sometimes they fly by, and other times they seem to last forever, yet they are all exactly twenty-four hours. There's quite a lot we don't know about them.
To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said 'I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head. Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be, Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me.
I can see the beauty of glass objects fully at the moment when they slip from my hand