"All things must in equity again decline into that whence they have their origin for they must give satisfaction and atonement for injustice each in the order of time."

"Time makes me stronger Well, there's nothing more to say."

"The sword of time will pierce our skins It doesn't hurt when it begins But as it works its way on in The pain grows stronger watch it grin. Suicide is painless It brings on many changes And I can take or leave them if I please."

"It's hard to watch something you love get swallowed, but don't we do the same with our time every day?"

"Love for the endlessness of labor is in itself an initiation of considerable degree; it prepares you for the conquest of time. Being in a condition where you have conquered time guarantees you a place in the Subtle World, where work is an unavoidable condition, just as it is in the body. A complaint about having to work can only come from a slave of the body."

"Ἀλλ' ἐκδιδάσκει πάνθ' ὁ γηράσκων χρόνος."

"Time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so."

"Midnight, and yet no eye Through all the Imperial City closed in sleep."

"Midnight, yet not a nose From Tower Hill to Piccadilly snored!"

"The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve; Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time."

"Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence."

"'Tis midnight now. The bent and broken moon, Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, Hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven."

"O wild and wondrous midnight, There is a might in thee To make the charmed body Almost like spirit be, And give it some faint glimpses Of immortality!"

"Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night!"

"I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose over the city, Behind the dark church tower."

"It was evening here, But upon earth the very noon of night."

"That hour o' night's black arch the keystane."

"Is there not A tongue in every star that talks with man, And wooes him to be wise? nor wooes in vain; This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars."

"Now came still evening on; and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale."

"Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon."

"Eternal Memory of the dead lasts as long as they are paid with memory!"

"The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration."

"I was heavy with the even, When she lit her glimmering tapers Round the day's dead sanctities. I laughed in the morning's eyes."

"The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices."

"The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night."

"Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death."

"One by one the flowers close, Lily and dewy rose Shutting their tender petals from the moon."

"O how grandly cometh Even, Sitting on the mountain summit, Purple-vestured, grave, and silent, Watching o'er the dewy valleys, Like a good king near his end."

"Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon."

"But when eve's silent footfall steals Along the eastern sky, And one by one to earth reveals Those purer fires on high."

"How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored."

"Day hath put on his jacket, and around His burning bosom buttoned it with stars."

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me."

"When day is done, and clouds are low, And flowers are honey-dew, And Hesper's lamp begins to glow Along the western blue; And homeward wing the turtle-doves, Then comes the hour the poet loves."

"It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure. Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away."

"Hath thy heart within thee burned, At evening's calm and holy hour?"

"To me at least was never evening yet But seemed far beautifuller than its day."

"And whiter grows the foam, The small moon lightens more; And as I turn me home, My shadow walks before."

"At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove."

"Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers."

"Incipe; dimidium facti est cœpisse. Supersit Dimidium: rursum hoc incipe, et efficies."

"The only joy in the world is to begin. It is good to be alive because living is beginning, always, every moment. When this sensation is lacking—as when one is in prison, or ill, or stupid, or when living has become a habit—one might as well be dead."

"Nothing great has great beginnings."

"All beginnings are very troublesome things."

"Et redit in nihilum quod fuit ante nihil."

"A bad beginning makes a bad ending."