A Quote by Antonio Porchia

I can wait for you longer. Because you have arrived. — © Antonio Porchia
I can wait for you longer. Because you have arrived.
We will have to wait a little longer to see if Armageddon has arrived.
I was pretty much prepared because I was already playing in extremely good ways when I arrived from Europe because I played jazz four or five years before I arrived here.
Ah, Los Angeles! Dust and fog of your lonely streets, I am no longer lonely. Just you wait, all of you ghosts of this room, just you wait, because it will happen, as sure as there's a God in heaven.
All my life I have arrived early only to find myself standing self-consciously on a corner, outside a door, in an empty room, but the closer I get to death the earlier I arrive, the longer I am content to wait, perhaps to give myself the false sensation that there is too much time rather than not enough.
The concept of growing up is so hard to quantify. What have you learned and how have you changed and how have you stayed exactly the same? As I get older, it's something I reflect on more and more. Especially as the generations go on. We wait longer to have families, we wait longer to have responsibilities. Everyone used to be married by 20 and pregnant immediately.
Everyday happiness means getting up in the morning, and you can't wait to finish your breakfast. You can't wait to do your exercises. You can't wait to put on your clothes. You can't wait to get out. And you can't wait to come home, because the soup is hot.
The longer you wait, the less fun. If you wait until the bitter end, the whole economy can be destroyed.
We usually learn to wait only when we have no longer anything to wait for.
I grew up with four T.V. channels. If you missed a show, you missed it. You gotta wait a week for the next one. I'd mail-order books: take a quarter, get an envelope, send off for it and wait until it arrived. I grew up waiting for things.
The joy of late love is like green firewood when set aflame, for the longer the wait in lighting, the greater heat it yields and the longer its force lasts.
When I am dead and buried, on my tombstone I would like to have it written, 'I have arrived.' Because when you feel that you have arrived, you are dead.
Wait on God and He will work, but don't wait in spiritual sulks because you cannot see an inch in front of you! Are we detached enough from our spiritual hysterics to wait on God? To wait is not to sit with folded hands, but to learn to do what we are told.
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Don't try to write through it, to force it. Many do, but that won't work. Just wait, it will come.
I've never had an 'I've arrived' moment. I don't like that word, 'arrived.' If you say you've arrived, then you've achieved your dream. You've done all you can. 'I'm the guy now.' I don't like that.
Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a past of his that he did not know he had: the foreignness of what you no longer are or no longer possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed places.
Boys, you must strive to find your own voice, because the longer you wait to begin the less likely you are to find it at all.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!