Quotes about Hurry

Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.  If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!

I lost into the hurry. Hurry was losing myself and not cleaning my sins/mistakes. Do not hurry, just do it in balance, harmony.

"When are we going to get going?" Chris says.
"What's your hurry?" I ask.
"I just want to get going."
"There's nothing up ahead that's any better than it is right here."

Hurry! We have so much time and so little to do! Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it

The life of the senses, when indulged so far, becomes extremely exacting.  It is simple enough to arouse one’s physical appetites, but not so easy to control them.  Nerves trained to excitement feel an unhealthy craving for it, and when the life of brain and senses has been accustomed to be fed continually from without by an unending flow of secondhand thoughts and images, of catchy tunes and twitching rhythms, it calls for these things because they render individual effort superfluous, and shake to pieces any notion of real values.  That is our modern world, dancing the infernal roundelay of haste, ever more deeply involved in the quest for variety and novelty.

            A mind trained to these frantic gymnastics will clearly show two characteristics; It will be insatiable, always preferring quantity to quality, and it will suffer from the need for speed.

I have the feeling that we are in such a hurry that we do not have time to look at one another and smile.

The day is a chase after ghost duties; at evening you are exhausted.  A day is over, and so much of it was wasted on things that meant so little to you, duties and meetings from which your heart was absent.  Months and years pass, and you fumble on, still incapable of finding a foothold on the path of time you walk.  A large proportion of your activity distracts you from remembering that you are a guest of the universe, to whom one life has been given.  You mistake the insistent pressure of daily demands for reality, and your more delicate and intuitive nature wilts...  Your way of life has little to do with what you feel and love in the world but because of the many demands on you and responsibilities you have, you feel helpless to gather your self; you are dragged in so many directions away from true belonging.

Human beings from this perspective were like ants.  Not size-wise.  But in the frantic bustling herdlike seemingly mindless and all too short character of their lives.  Racing here and racing there, consumed things, hauling burdens around, making messes, tidying up, nursing their young, ignoring their old, dispatching enemies or getting killed by them, forming alliances and betraying them, procreating and suffering famine and pestilence and invading new territory and dropping dead and melting into the earth.  And all in sprawling anonymous masses.  To no apparent purpose.  Unless the purpose, maybe, was to see how it all comes out.
Only, of course, it never all came out.  It just kept going the way it was going.  No end.  No resolution.  Only successive flowerings, contractions, regrowths, new flowerings, ad eternam.