It is never too late or too soon, the old man had said. It is when it is supposed to be.
Mitch AlbomHe thought about his son’s stone flying across the yard, the youthful idea that you could toss away the future if
you didn’t like it—and he realized, suddenly, what he needed to do.
What was the constant?
Movement. Yes. With time there was always movement. The setting sun. The dripping water. The
pendulums. The spilling sand. To realize his destiny, such movement had to cease. He had to stop the flow
of time completely …
Mots clés time
I made such a fool of myself,” she lamented.
“Love does not make you a fool.”
“He didn’t love me back.”
“That does not make you a fool, either.”
“Just tell me …” Her voice cracked. “When does it stop hurting?”
“Sometimes never.
No matter how smart she appeared, she was
fragile at her core.
You had many more years,” he said.
“I didn’t want them.”
“But they wanted you. Time is not something you give back. The very next moment may be an answer to
your prayer. To deny that is to deny the most important part of the future.”
“What’s that?”
“Hope.
Man wants to own his existence. But no one owns time.
Mitch AlbomBut fates are connected in ways we don’t understand.
Mitch AlbomBut my father, a thief in many ways, had robbed me of my concentration.
Mitch AlbomMots clés father
Remember me for these days, not the old ones.
Mitch AlbomMots clés change
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