Calendars Quotes

“God gave Moses a calendar that began in spring. (Ex 12:2) God Himself emphasized the importance of Israel’s new calendar at Ex 23:16; Le 23:34 and De 16:13. God’s calendar was for marking, and keeping, God’s holy days. Using a foreign calendar became illegal. Ignoring Israel’s new calendar could cost an Israelite their life. (Nu 15:32-35)
Yet, the Jewish calendar is not the only calendar. There are plenty of calendars to choose from: Assyrian; Egyptian; Iranian; Armenian; Ethiopian; Hindu; Coptic; Mayan; Chinese; Julian; Byzantine; Islamic and Gregorian; just to mention a few. Has the Seventh Day Adventists settled on any one of these calendars? Which one?”
― Michael Ben Zehabe, Unanswered Questions in the Sunday News

“We tediously create calendars filled with empty duties, and then we foolishly let those calendars empty us.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“A story conducted by the time of a clock and calendars alone would be a story not of human beings but of mechanical toys.”
― Mary Lascelles, Jane Austen And Her Art

“We only think of days and months to keep track of times that aren't now. Fuck days. Fuck months. This was how it was going to be from now on: forever.”
― Andrew Smith

“... he rushed to the calendar where he jotted everything from Mama's Birthday to Buy New Toothbrush so that each month became a solid ink-black block of accomplishment.”
― Yelena Akhtiorskaya, Panic in a Suitcase

“The calendar gave him unmoving pools of quiet in which to rest. He spent hours looking at the calendar. It was time past and time to come, divided into neat little boxes, and the boxes named and numbered. He would look at a box ahead, say, February 25, 1917, and think, Inside that box, I and everyone else on earth, minus a few who will die before then and plus a few who will be born, will have our lives. Inside that box, each of my acts and feelings for that twenty-four hours awaits me. And because he was sick, there was not much he could do to prepare for or to control those acts which waited for him to become their center. . . .

Most of the time, he was alone. He took deep breaths of the raw smell of seed potatoes, newly cut and bleeding their milky starch. He inhaled the sun-warmed scent of the creosote-stained redwood planks. The top quilt on his bed was pieced in a star design. Each star was made up of God knows how many pieces, and each piece was of a different color and design. The designs were a tanglewood maze of leaves and flowers and stars and branches. When he got tired of calendar quiet and of cataloging smells, he took up quilt-gazing. He didn't need a world a minute bigger than his room, an inch wider than his calendar, or an iota sweeter than his own breath. But he was the only one who knew this.”
― Jessamyn West, South of the Angels