Time Slipping Quotes & Sayings

To them, as to Magnus, time was like rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted.
Until you loved a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser's hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through your fingers. — Cassandra Clare

Ever since I was fifteen, that is to say from that moment when I lost all that was left me of my childhood, from the moment when I ceased to be aware of the present and knew only the past hurrying into the future, that is to say into the abyss, ever since I became fully conscious of time I have felt old and I have wanted to live. I have run after life as though to catch time, and I have tried to live. I have run after life so much that it has always escaped me, I have run, I have never been late and never too early, and yet I have never caught up with it: it is as though I have run alongside of it.
What is life, I may be asked. For me, life is not Time; it is not this state of existence, for ever escaping us, slipping between our fingers and vanishing like a ghost as soon as you try to grasp it. For me it is, it must be, the present, presentness, plenitude. I have run after life so much that I have lost it. — Eugene Ionesco

Time was unending when charmed, captivated, even delighted by the mystical motion of the ocean! — Ray Palla

Every hour you are not going after your passion, making your dreams a reality or defining your purpose is an hour you can't get back. Is what you're doing right now, this day, this moment getting you closer to where you want to be? If not, readjust your focus. It's your future. Go get it! — Elizabeth Bourgeret

In the Irish Revival of 1859, people became so weak that they
could not get back to their homes. Men and women would fall by
the wayside and would be found hours later pleading with God to
save their souls. They felt that they were slipping into hell and that
nothing else in life mattered but to get right with God ... To them
eternity meant everything. Nothing else was of any consequence.
They felt that if God did not have mercy on them and save them,
they were doomed for all time to come. — Oswald J. Smith

Time was like the rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted. Until you love a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser's hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through you fingers.
Cassandra Clare: What Really Happened in Peru — Cassandra Clare

Life, if you keep chasing it so hard, will drive you to death. Time - when pursued like a bandit - will behave like one; always remaining one county or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping out the back door of the motel just as you're banging through the lobby with your newest search warrant, leaving only a burning cigarette in the ashtray to taunt you. At some point you have to stop because it won't. You have to admit that you can't catch it. That you're not supposed to catch it. — Elizabeth Gilbert

...time is not a willing captive. The days pass too soon, slipping through my fingers like sand. I grab for a moment, only to find it is no longer there. I take a photo with my mind, only to find it is already fading. — Maria Goodin

Freedom of the press and also of speech, assembly, and worship can persist as social forms and legal guarantees, while at the same time their functional realities can be gradually slipping away. — Marshall Field

Slipping into bad attitudes and habits is like a beautiful queen growing older and uglier compared to the defined mission and personal standards. Time and again everyone who is serious about making their success more deliberate needs to stop by the mirror in their own mind and ask, "Mirror, mirror in my mind, am I still on course to succeed in life? — Archibald Marwizi

whose dark and icy depths were starting to seem as distant as the moon. Just as it had before he faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as — J.K. Rowling

And then when you are actually in the moment and you see the time slipping away from you, you realize it wasn't just something people said in songs and poems and books. It was something those people had actually felt and been through. — Dan Skinner

Metal is from the earth, he thought as he scrutinized. From below: from that realm which is the lowest, the most dense. Land of trolls and caves, dank, always dark. Yin world, in its most melancholy aspect. World of corpses, decay and collapse. Of feces. All that has died, slipping and disintegrating back down layer by layer. The daemonic world of the immutable; the time-that-was.
And yet, in the sunlight, the silver triangle glittered. It reflected light. Fire, Mr. Tagomi thought. Not dank or dark object at all. Not heavy, weary, but pulsing with life. The high realm, aspect of yang: empyrean, ethereal. As befits work of art. Yes, that is artist's job: takes mineral rock from dark silent earth transforms it into shining light-reflecting form from sky.
Has brought the dead to life. Corpse turned to fiery display; the past had yielded to the future. — Philip K. Dick

With ardent sadness he contemplated the scene of his death for a long time, endlessly revising it like a work of art and surrounding it with images of this world, images that still imbued his thoughts, but that, already slipping away from him in his gradual departure, became vague and beautiful. — Marcel Proust

The door opened. She looked in the mirror and suppressed a curse. Slipping in behind some tourists, that winged shadow was back again. Karou rose and made for the bathroom, where she took the note that Kishmish had come to deliver.
Again it bore a single word. But this time the word was Please. — Laini Taylor

Time is passing : not leaden stepping
But sprinting on winged feet,
Quick silver slipping by. — Richard L. Ratliff

With time, grief has a way of slipping down in the crevices of your heart. It never really leaves; it just makes room for more. — Nancy B. Brewer

People are bewitched into believing that time slips away, and this belief is the basis of time actually slipping away. — Raoul Vaneigem

The Jardin Massey looked dismal today, rain lashed and deserted. She watched a bedraggled pigeon, feathers puffed out, sheltering beneath a branch.She'd never made a will, never considered whether she'd rather her body was buried or burnt to grey powder. And where would she want to be buried - in a French graveyard, gaudy with plastic flowers? If she made a will, could she state an aversion to plastic? — Jackie Ley

When a man is happy enough to win the affections of a sweet girl, who can soothe his cares with crochet, and respond to all his most cherished ideas with beaded urn-rugs and chair-covers in German wool, he has, at least, a guarantee of domestic comfort, whatever trials may await him out of doors. What a resource it is under fatigue and irritation to have your drawing-room well supplied with small mats, which would always be ready if you ever wanted to set anything on them ! And what styptic for a bleeding heart can equal copious squares of crochet, which are useful for slipping down the moment you touch them ? How our fathers managed without crochet is the wonder; but I believe some small and feeble substitute existed in their time under the name of 'tatting'. — George Eliot

But time was slipping away; in another minute it would be too late; and urgency acted not as a spur but as a creeping paralysis which clogged the mind, and weighted the tongue, and imposed on desperation a blanket of numb stupidity. — Georgette Heyer

He believed in nothing. Which is why his departures and his pursuit of the most intense feelings and acts were so radical, so deep and honest. The truth of life was perfectly clear to him. Nothing was made, every new morning was clear. His only challenge was inward. He had not been disillusioned or had some bad experience that he could put it all down to. He had simply seen the world and that was that. And he understood how slippery every moment was and he liked the thrill of it. Slipping from the knowable to the unknown, walking from one street to the next, being different all the time. In one afternoon he could slip from one personality to another. Why not? — Dionne Brand

And when what has kept me going for the whole of my adult life, the ambition to write something exceptional one day, is threatened in this way my one thought, which gnaws at me like a rat, is that I have to escape. Time is slipping away from me, running through my fingers like sand while I ... do what? — Karl Ove Knausgard

The more one concentrates on breathing, the more the external stimuli fade into the background ... In due course one even grows immune to larger stimuli, and at the same time detachment from them becomes easier and quicker. Care has only to be taken that the body is relaxed whether standing, sitting or lying, and if one then concentrates on breathing one soon feels oneself shut in by impermeable layers of silence. One only knows and feels that one breathes. And, to detach oneself from this feeling and knowing, no fresh decision is required, for the breathing slows down of its own accord, becomes more and more economical in the use of breath, and finally, slipping by degrees into a blurred monotone, escapes one's attention altogether. — Eugen Herrigel

It occurred to her, sadly, and not for the first time, that as you grew older you became busier, and time went faster and faster, the months pushing each other rudely out of the way, and the years slipping off the calendar and into the past. Once, there had been time. Time to stand, or sit, and just look at daffodils. Or to abandon housekeeping, on the spur of the moment, walk out of the back door and up the hill, into the lark-song emptiness of a summer morning. — Rosamunde Pilcher

Because." He leaned forward, his hand slipping up her back to unerringly trace the scar tissue of the design burned there, now concealed under the robe. "Someone drew you wings a long time ago and you've been trying to decide whether to fly away ever since." < ... > "And because when I look at you, I think you're a gift from God. — Joey W. Hill

So give up waiting as a state of mind. When you catch yourself slipping into waiting . . . snap out of it. Come into the present moment. Just be, and enjoy being. If you are present, there is never any need for you to wait for anything. So next time somebody says, "Sorry to have kept you waiting," you can reply, "That's all right, I wasn't waiting. I was just standing — Eckhart Tolle

They've written songs about this feeling, and poems and books and movies. All of them telling us to live each moment like there wouldn't be another one." Caleb's voice was low and thick with emotion. "And then when you are actually in the moment and you see the time slipping away from you, you realize it wasn't just something people said in songs and poems and books. It was something those people had actually felt and been through. And it scares you because you don't want to lose it." "It's — Anonymous

We were late among the living, and by the time God got to us ice was already slipping from the poles as if from an imperfectly decorated cake. — William H Gass

When you were twenty, you accepted yourself, flaws and all. Then disenchantment set in. By the time you were thirty your tolerance was wearing thin. You weren't entirely trustworthy, and you knew you were prone to compromise. Already the future was receding, the bright dreams were slipping below the horizon. By now you're a stage set, one push and the whole thing could collapse at your feet. At times you feel like you're living someone else's life, in a strange house you've rented by accident. The 'you' you've become isn't your real self. — J.G. Ballard

Actuality is when the lighthouse is dark between flashes: it is the instant between the ticks of the watch: it is a void interval slipping forever through time: the rupture between past and future: the gap at the poles of the revolving magnetic field, infinitesimally small but ultimately real. It is the interchronic pause when nothing is happening. It is the void between events. — George Kubler

Young Noah: Will you go out with me?
Young Allie: What? No.
Young Noah: No ... ?
Young Allie: No.
Young Noah: Why not?
Young Allie: I dunno, because I don't want to.
Young Noah: OK, then you leave me no other choice.
Young Allie: AHHHH
Young Noah: I'm gonna ask you one more time, will you or will you not go out with me? I think my hand's slipping.
Young Allie: OK, OK. Fine I'll go out with you
Young Noah: No, don't do me any favors.
Young Allie: No, no I want to.
Young Noah: Say it.
Young Allie: I wanna go out with you.
Young Noah: Say it again.
Young Allie: I WANNA GO OUT WITH YOU!
Young Noah: All right, all right we'll go out. — Nicholas Sparks

The kids are a guarantee of our relative longevity. We're safe as long as they're around. But once they get big and scatter, she wants to be the first to go. She is afraid I will die unexpectedly, sneakily, slipping away in the night. It isn't that she doesn't cherish life; it's being left alone that frightens her. The emptiness, the sense of cosmic darkness.
Mastercard, Visa, American Express.
I tell her I want to die first. I've gotten so used to her that I would feel miserably incomplete. We are two views of the same person. I would spend the rest of my life turning to speak to her. No one there, a hole in space and time. — Don DeLillo

At the same time as woman was becoming the showcase for wealth and caste, while men were slipping into relative anonymity and "handsome is as handsome does," she was emerging as the central emblem of western art. — Germaine Greer

I can no longer hear my voices, so I am a little lost. My suspicion is they would know far better how to tell this story. At least they would have opinions and suggestions and definite ideas as to what should go first and what should go last and what should go in the middle. They would inform me when to add detail, when to omit extraneous information, what was important and what was trivial. After so much time slipping past, I am not particularly good at remembering these things myself and could certainly use their help. A great many events took place, and it is hard for me to know precisely where to put what. And sometimes I'm unsure that incidents I clearly remember actually did happen. A memory that seems one instant to be as solid as stone, the next seems as vaporous as a mist above the river. That's one of the major problems with being crazy: you're just naturally uncertain about things. (9) — John Katzenbach

Then May gave way to June, and it felt as if time was slipping through her fingers. — Sarra Manning

Time is standing still, but we are running away from it and complaining that time is slipping away from us. — Debasish Mridha

A set point is simply a bare-minimum threshold you establish for yourself that you promise you will not go below. A set point differs from a goal. Goals pull you forward, while set points help you maintain what you have. You need both. You can establish set points for anything important to you. And here's a secret: You can use set points not only to prevent or reverse slipping but also to improve over time. — Vishen Lakhiani

As her breath caught in her throat, Vanessa grabbed the first diversion she spotted - a glossy visitor's guide to the city - and sat down, determined not to let her thoughts travel back in time. But as she flipped through the pages without seeing them, her determination failed, and a flood of memories poured over her. Tears began slipping down her cheeks, one by one, until she started sobbing, and the guide slipped to the floor. — Elsie Hillman-Gordon

Live your life to full in this moment which is slipping quickly before your time is gone. — Auliq Ice

Time
when pursued like a bandit
will behave like one; always remaining one country or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping ou the back door of the motel just as you're banging through the lobby with your newest search warrant, leaving only a burning cigarette in the ashtray to taunt you. — Elizabeth Gilbert

I will. See you later, and thanks again." Before Carlisle had a chance to leave out of the window she leaned over and kissed him, nothing ostentatious, just sweet and sensitive.
He took no time in hesitating. He reached his arm out and pulled her body close to his. He pressed them together and let his mouth open hers, his tongue slipped inside, and he stole a few more moments of sweetness with her before slipping out of her window and walking down the street, into the distance and eventually out of sight. — Ashley Nemer

Gos was still out there in the forest, the dark forest to which all things lost must go. I'd wanted to slip across the borders of this world into that wood and bring back the hawk White lost. Some part of me that was very small and old had known this, some part of me that didn't work according to the everyday rules of the world but with the logic of myths and dreams. And that part of me had hoped, too, that somewhere in that other world was my father. His death had been so sudden. there had been no time to prepare for it, no sense in it happening at all. He could only be lost. He was out there, still, somewhere out there in that tangled wood with all the rest of the lost and dead. I know now what those dreams in spring had meant, the ones of a hawk slipping through a rent in the air into another world. I'd wanted to fly with the hawk to find my father; find him and bring him home. — Helen Macdonald

Time management is about life management. — Idowu Koyenikan

Mothers are odd things. We're quick to think of their nurturing aspects, but there is also some sort of strange darkness there. It tends to be much stronger in connection with sons than with daughters. It's easy for a mother to cross an invisible line and enslave a son with kindness. There's nothing more revolting than a man incapable of slipping his mother's apron strings. He will always revert back to a boy in her presence. I see boys with unnatural attachments to their mothers all the time. It's a sign of the times in which no one ever grows up. We live in soft times. — Damien Echols

Then what is good? The obsessive interest in human affairs, plus a certain amount of compassion and moral conviction, that first made the experience of living something that must be translated into pigment or music or bodily movement or poetry or prose or anything that's dynamic and expressivee
that's what's good for you if you're at all serious in your aims. William Saroyan wrote a great play on this theme, that purity of heart is the one success worth having. "In the time of your life
live!" That time is short and it doesn't return again. It is slipping away while I write this and while you read it, the monosyllable of the clock is Loss, loss, loss, unless you devote your heart to its opposition. — Tennessee Williams

There's something I never told you about that decision I made four years ago ... I've never felt a middle ground between acceptance and remorse. Every day for the last four years, it's been one or the other. Black or white. There was no grey, but I could bear it because I had you. When I lost you, I began slipping into perpetual guilt. Carrying that secret, alone, for the first time, while trying to balance the idea of a benevolent God with a God who could let this happen to you - it was like falling into quicksand. — Tammara Webber

And I suppose my view is shaped by the portholes around me. Eight people probably died from slipping in their showers in the time it took me to have this thought right here of them slipping in their showers. But it's more than the deaths I saw; it's the destruction. The noise with which we go seems to make it count for more. I think of my buddies who checked out via hand grenade versus those who died from MRSA back in the VA. We barely notice the latter. They're statistics. Go quietly, and you're a number. Go in spectacular fashion, and you're a name. — Hugh Howey

He could feel the only woman he had ever wanted slipping away for the third time, and he knew that this time, the pain of losing her would annihilate her. — Laura Lee Guhrke

It makes sense that your response to a bad break-up line would be to set someone on fire," I responded. "Fire is magical to us because it embodies the passage of time. We can never grasp time because it is invisible, unreachable and continually slipping from our grasp. Do we live in the present? How can we? The present is infinitesimally small. It can't contain human action. We teeter on the brink between our assumed future...where we will be in moments to come...and our memory of the past...where we think we just were. The present doesn't exist in a comprehensible way. Similarly, fire is something we can neither grasp nor touch, yet it has a clear effect...the decay and collapse of life, the acceleration of entropy. Thus when we stand mesmerized by fire, we are actually mesmerized by our own mortality. — David David Katzman

Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"You mean go on a date?" I focused on stirring instead of my suddenly racing heart. "When?"
"Before the union. Have dinner with me and I'll take you to Blood Moon for a couple of hours until it's time for the ceremony." His fingers moved from the pleats to the hem of my sweater, his hand slipping under the pale blue cashmere to stroke the skin of my lower back.
I gasped, caught his wrist in my fingers, and pulled his hand away from its provocative exploration.
"We are in class," I hissed at him through clenched teeth. — Andrea Cremer

The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality and my life, as I write this, is vital even when sad. I may wake up sometime next year without my mind again; it is not likely to stick around all the time. Meanwhile, however, I have discovered what I would have to call a soul, a part of myself I could never have imagined until one day, seven years ago, when hell came to pay me a surprise visit. It's a precious discovery. Almost every day I feel momentary flashes of hopelessness and wonder every time whether I am slipping. For a petrifying instant here and there, a lightning-quick flash, I want a car to run me over ... I hate these feelings but, but I know that they have driven me to look deeper at life, to find and cling to reasons for living, I cannot find it in me to regret entirely the course my life has taken. Every day, I choose, sometimes gamely, and sometimes against the moment's reason, to be alive. Is that not a rare joy? — Andrew Solomon

You and the babies have my protection from the Vampyres, Khalil said, his mental voice as smooth as a rope of silk slipping over her neck. At a time of my choosing, you will do anything I ask you to do, for the sum of one favor. Agreed?
She gave him a jerky nod. Agreed.
Khalil gave Grace a sulfurous smile. — Thea Harrison

Magnus remembered a town in Peru whose Quechua name meant "quiet place." He recalled even more vividly being obscenely drunk and unhappy over his heartbreak of that time, and the maudlin thoughts that had recurred to him over the years, like an unwanted guest slipping in through his doors: that there was no peace for such as he, no quiet place, and there never would be.
Except he found himself remembering lying in bed with Alec - all of their clothes on, lounging on the bed on a lazy afternoon, Alec laughing, head thrown back, the marks Magnus had left on his throat very plain to see. — Sarah Rees Brennan

For there is no bond more lasting than that formed by
the mutual confidences of that magic time when youth is slipping from
the sheath of childhood and beginning to wonder what lies for it beyond
those misty hills that bound the golden road. — L.M. Montgomery

He felt so tired, so weary of holding on with an iron grip to something he knew was slipping away.
"You can't make someone love you," he said.
Her hand stilled for a moment, the dirty tissue between her fingers. "True."
"Even if you love them so much you'd do anything, anything, for them." The truth of his words sank in. Speaking about it wasn't helping. It felt worse, like probing an open wound.
"Even if," his grandmasaid, nodding.
"Sometimes they pick another person to love when you've been right in front of them the whole time."
"It does happen." Her voice was soft.
"And then there's nothing left but to keep going as you were, pretending you never felt anything more than . . ."
"Friendship?" Her eyes met his and there was the faintest glimmer of tears.
"But I don't think I can have even that, anymore. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Too-broad questions, such as, "What's on your mind?" are apt to be answered "nothing" nearly one hundred percent of the time. Be careful of slipping into ""psycho-speak," however. Kids pick up instantly your attempt at being a pseudo-shrink. Most resent it and are apt to tune out anything that sounds like you're reading a script from the latest child-psychology text. — Margaret Kennedy

These aren't me!" I screamed in a whisper, two tears slipping down my cheeks. "Whatever you see, it's not me. I'm just a fuck-up who doesn't know anything, not even what he's doing from moment to moment. And I'm scared all the time, and I don't know how to be anything else, except maybe angry and sad."
His arms tightened around me. "I don't need you to be perfect. I don't need you to never make mistakes. I just need you to let me give you as much of myself as I can, and to trust that I will try as hard as possible never to hurt you intentionally. Can you do that? Can you just let me love you? — Amelia C. Gormley

I've put one foot before another and the years have passed, the time marked by late rent payments and the appearance of wrinkles - tiny ones, on the corners of my eyes. They are a reminder of my youth, and of the hourglass that we all live in, grains of sand slipping through the gap of time, each granule adding another wrinkle, another pocket of fat, another sag that I will fight to overcome, another grey hair to pluck or dye. — Alessandra Torre

Getting lost or losing grip gives life meaning and direction. It gives you the opportunity to grow, learn something new and startover. Next time you feel like your failing, slipping or just unsettled in life - take a deep breath - get in the moment of just "being" - feel the life run through your body - stand up and keep going. — Claire Charters

There was something appealing in thinking of a character with a secret life that her author knew nothing about. Slipping off while the author's back was turned, to find love in her own way. Showing up just in time to deliver the next bit of dialogue with an innocent face. — Karen Joy Fowler

It's nice to be able to explore both sides of my personality. I definitely relate more to Debbie, my character on The Grinder. But it's really nice because I get to play a character who's down on her luck and kinda slipping off the edge in It's Always Sunny, while at the same time getting to play this character who's a mom and holding it together on The Grinder. — Mary Elizabeth Ellis

She didn't drink a lot, but she drank me into wonderland where we spent the time giggling and laughing. However, know this if you are able or leave while you still can. Love is unstable when built on what must come and go with the wind and sand.
After awhile, I heard the increasing activity from the hall as the campus was starting to come alive and I said to Penny, "I think we need to get to the bistro" and she responded by slipping one brown shoe delicately over her white nylon socking. — Joseph Persia

I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it - because it was my own. — Gerard Way

There's a strange sensation - you recall it from childhood - about sleeping in the afternoon. You rise into a different world from the one in which you lay down. The shadows have been rearranged. There's a sensation of sad sweetness, as if something has been overlooked. I used to feel it coming out of the movies just before dinnertime, after the matinee. How, I wondered, did Broadway actors face it, this bittersweet sense of time's slipping past. — Jacquelyn Mitchard

One more time? For the audience? he says. His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.
I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. — Suzanne Collins

It had been a long time since I felt the fragrance of summer: the scent of the ocean, a distant train whistle, the touch of a girl's skin, the lemony perfume of her hair, the evening wind, faint glimmers of hope, summer dreams.
But none of these were the way they once had been; they were all somehow off, as if copied with tracing paper that kept slipping out of place."
-from "Hear the Wind Sing — Haruki Murakami

Don't run against time go hand in hand — Bangambiki Habyarimana

I wrapped my hands around the familiar cup and tried to draw strength from it. It was from Thea's old Moss Rose set, remnant of careful scrimping and saving in her first year of marriage. Yet the mellow old cup now brought me no comfort, only a feeling of helplessness, of time slipping away. Sunday-best dishes gone to everyday and now to mismatched pieces. Like Thea and me — Lorena McCourtney

Time did a funny thing after, some days slipping away without notice while others stretched on endlessly. — Jen Nadol

I was slipping, man, and it was definetly time to get a grip. — Wendelin Van Draanen

It was a time of dark dreams. They washed in like flotsam on the night tide, slipping beneath doorways and window latches, rising through the streets and hills; and the little fishing-town of Scarlock foundered deep. — J.A. Clement

I feel the weight of time passing, slipping through my fingers faster than I can hold on to it. — Caisey Quinn

For a moment nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and-
He starts to run. I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish i could run, I wish I'd written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass-
And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have. Ky. Running toward me. I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right. He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore. "You're here," he says, breathing hard and hungry. sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I'm the only thing he ever needed to see. I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss. — Ally Condie

You're a bundle of questions
this afternoon, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't have to be," she retorted, clearly regaining
her wits, "if you'd actually say something of substance."
"Until next time, Miss Bridgerton," he murmured, slipping
out into the hall.
"But when?" came her exasperated voice.
He laughed all the way out. — Julia Quinn

For quite some time now, like the foetus inside a womb, a terrible knowledge had been ripening within me and filling my soul with frightened foreboding: that the Infinite Universe is inflating at incredible speed, like some ridiculous soap bubble. I become obsessed with a miser's piercing anxiety whenever I allow myself to think that the Universe may be slipping out into space, like water through cupped hands, and that, ultimately - perhaps even today, perhaps not till tomorrow or for several light years - it will dissolve for ever into emptiness, as though it were made not of solid matter but only of fleeting sound. — Tadeusz Borowski

I kept wondering then - I'm still wondering now - if there was a time when she realizes that something was going wrong. Inside her, I mean. when she could feel herself slipping away, something new creeping in. If she could have stopped it, or if it just... happened. — Nina LaCour

But as the sun slipped even further, his eyes weren't drawn to the horizon. He watched Lily as she stood on the dock, glorying in the golden ritual, her russet hair slipping free from its ponytail to frame her face with messy abandon.
This is the view I need to be happy, she'd said.
The irony was exquisite. Because that was what he whispered to himself every time he saw her too.
And there wasn't a damn thing he could ever do about it. — Elyse Mady

It was the heart of any true moment of decadence: the knowledge that an epoque is already slipping from us, inexorably, even in the moment of its glory. — Tilar J. Mazzeo

What is more irritating than to see one's subject, on whom one has lavished so much time and trouble, slipping out of one's grasp altogether and indulging - witness her sighs and gasps, her flushing, her palings, her eyes now bright as lamps, now haggard as dawns
- what is more humiliating than to see all this dumb show of emotion and excitement gone through before our eyes when we know that what causes it - thought and imagination - are of no importance whatsoever? — Virginia Woolf

But, Mike, I don't want to wear a brace."
"You'll give it a chance, won't you?"
"Well, if I can wear it under my clothes."
"Sure and you can. I've made it that soft it won't chafe."
I took off my shirt and undid the top buttons of my underwear. "You'll have to put it on me, Mike. I'll never figure out how it works."
"Lift up your arms, then, and I'll slip it on."
I did. But instead of slipping it over my arms, it was himself he slipped between them. He kissed me in the hollow of my throat, and it was a long time before we got those braces on. — Benedict Freedman

Time keeps on slipping into the future. — Steve Miller

At the time I made a decision, a sensible one, in which love might or might not have had a role to play. What was more appealing, was a promise of a peaceful life that she has had until now, untouched by quandary. But that too was slipping away and she was powerless to recapture it, a virtuous relationship and its limpidness that knew neither quarrels nor deceit. — Mehreen Ahmed

Remember, constantly, that when you talk about 'tense of a subjunctive,' you're not talking about time. You're slipping through degrees of reality. — C.J. Cherryh

I remember now. Calling you. It's hard, everything's running together. I called and called and called. Like a shotgun, firing in every direction hoping to hit somethin'. I bet I called you twenty times." "Twice. You called me twice. John, answer my question." "Really? You kept getting weird on me. You know what I think? I think you'll be getting calls from me for the next eight or nine years. All from tonight. I couldn't help it, couldn't get oriented. Kept slipping out of the time . . . you've got a voice mail message three years from now that's freaking hilarious. — David Wong

No "natural" resource is more precious and to be used more wisely than time. These mortal moments matter more than we know. There are no idle hours; there are only idle people. In true righteousness there is serenity, but there is an array of reminders that the "sacred present" is packed with possibilities which are slipping by us, which are going away from us each moment. — Neal A. Maxwell

I was aware of the time slipping away so quickly and I was hideously afraid that I would never have another chance to be with him like this again- openly, the Walls between us gone for once. His words hinted at an end, and I recoiled from the idea. I couldn't waste one minute I had with him. — Stephenie Meyer

She'd always despised the whole other woman thing, but here she was, entertaining the possibility. — Diana Stevan

The French called this time of day 'l'heure bleue.' To the English it was 'the gloaming.' The very word 'gloaming' reverberates, echoes - the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour - carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of the day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice; the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone ... Blue nights are the opposite of the dying of the brightness, but they are also its warning. — Joan Didion

When you're looking for a hunter," she said, slipping out of her coat, "you go to places where they tend to congregate. Unfortunately, the Trap Door is just that sort of dive. The big surprise here is you. Back in aurora springs you didn't spend a lot of time in the usual hunter hangouts. You're not wearing your seal ring, either. What's up? are you here incognito or something? — Jayne Castle

The first job I got was this TV job in this show called 'The Unusuals.' Then I did a play called 'Slipping,' and at the same time I was rehearsing another play at Playwrights Horizons, and that kind of snowballed into a bunch of plays. — Adam Driver

Just as it had before he faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. — J.K. Rowling

This is a time of great confusion, of great darkness; other networks are slipping in through other dimensional planes. Soon the network of enlightenment will leave this earth. — Frederick Lenz

THERE HAVE BEEN MOMENTS when my whole life made sense. I knew exactly who I was. The people in my life were all there for a reason. Clearly, and without a shred of doubt, I knew that the reason was love, so for that moment I could laugh at the preposterous notion that I had enemies or that I was a stranger in this world. Perfection has a mysterious way of slipping in and out of time. Few people, I imagine, haven't felt the kind of moment I just described, but I've never met a single person who could hold on to it. But people desperately want to, and often this hunger motivates their spiritual life. — Deepak Chopra

Everyone just wasting time because they have so much of it to waste, minutes slipping by on who's with who and did you hear. — Lauren Oliver

Time is the only commodity that is irreplaceable: invest it, share it, spend it...but never waste it. — Tracy Sherwood

Seriously, I think it is a grave fault in life that so much time is wasted in social matters, because it not only takes up time when you might be doing individual private things, but it prevents you storing up the psychic energy that can then be released to create art or whatever it is. It's terrible the way we scotch silence & solitude at every turn, quite suicidal. I can't see how to avoid it, without being very rich or very unpopular, & it does worry me, for time is slipping by , and nothing is done. It isn't as if anything was gained by this social frivolity, It isn't: it's just a waste. — Philip Larkin

Oh, what a shock. My career must be slipping. This is the first time I've been available to pick up an award. — Michael Caine

Feel free to check out the hotel and talk to the staff," he said slipping out of bed. "And I'm happy to give you an up-close look at what we're doing." When she didn't answer, he glanced over his shoulder. Then cleared his throat.
Her attention jumped from his ass to his face. "Sorry, what did you say/"
"I said
"
She sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. And damn if she wasn't the most gorgeous thing with her creamy skin, pert breasts, and mussed hair.
He moaned like a guy totally whipped and stalked back to the bed where he climbed on top of her.
"Connor." She giggled and wiggled beneath him. Her arms went around his neck. "What are you doing?"
"Forgetting the time." He kissed her and didn't leave until they'd both had their fill. — Robin Bielman

Johanna: What's it feel like when you dive?
Jacques: It's a feeling of slipping without falling. The hardest thing is when you're at the bottom.
Johanna: Why?
Jacques: 'Cause you have to find a good reason to come back up... and I have a hard time finding one. — Luc Besson