A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times. Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.

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Explore More Quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Authority forgets a dying king.

Authority forgets a dying king.

Sin is too stupid to see beyond itself.

Sin is too stupid to see beyond itself.

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    For the born traveller, travelling is a besetting vice. Like other vices, it is imperious, demanding its victim’s time, money, energy and the sacrifice of comfort.

    For the born traveller, travelling is a besetting vice. Like other vices, it is imperious, demanding its victim’s time, money, energy and the sacrifice of comfort.

    When you are missing someone, time seems to move slower, and when I’m falling in love with someone, time seems to be moving faster.

    When you are missing someone, time seems to move slower, and when I’m falling in love with someone, time seems to be moving faster.

    The greatest loss of time is delay and expectation, which depend upon the future. We let go the present, which we have in our power, and look forward to that which depends upon chance, and so relinquish a certainty for an uncertainty.

    The greatest loss of time is delay and expectation, which depend upon the future. We let go the present, which we have in our power, and look forward to that which depends upon chance, and so relinquish a certainty for an uncertainty.

    We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infintesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future.

    We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infinitesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future. 

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