late

Once I embraced the dreams that once inspired. Now I've found that there is too much I didn't recognize as a gift. I may be too late to see, cherish, and endure. I may never change, but be forever stuck in the past without realizing until my eyes open to the sun and I have forgotten the moon.

You may not have covered your set tracks but it__ never too late to start.

If you want to strike, strike now. No matter how skillfully a footballer strikes beyond the 90 minutes' regulated time, he makes no influence. Strike now before it becomes too late!

Kill the fears before they endorse your failures. When you attempt to stop the terrorist at the time he's at work, you are too late!

A country whose citizens do not read is already late because "reading" is just the first step to wisdom acquisition. Application of the learnt knowledge is the gateway to personal transformation. If you don't read, you have not yet begun anything!

I saw many people who begun their marathon races lately, but they eventually came up as top winners. I believe that your "lateness" does not account for your "lastness". It's not too late for you to make a start... Begin it now! No further delays!

Just get it right, __t is not too late to dream_. You can do it now! This very moment, I mean right now! Let__ begin!

Your later may be late. Never postpone your salvation HOURS to tomorrow. If it's not now, it may be never. The days are not OURS!

It embarrassed her, as a child, to think that her father had fallen in love, or, if men must love, then it should have been someone else, someone dark, mysterious and profoundly clever, not an ordinary person who was impatient for no reason and cross when one was late for lunch.

Jeeter?" Grace whispered into her walkie-talkie. "Are you awake?" She waited.A few weeks ago, she and Jeeter had started chatting on their walkie-talkies late at night when she couldn't sleep. He always answered her call no matter how late it was."I'm here," his voice echoed back. "Trouble sleeping again?""Yeah.""Another bad dream?""Uh-huh," she sniffed, unexpected tears flooding her eyes. My dad was calling for me, but I couldn't find him." She couldn't believe she'd said it. She'd never told anyone what she saw in her dreams. But Jeeter understood. He'd told her before that he had bad dreams too, since his mom had died.

By the time most people say 'I'm sorry' it is already too late.

I've been quite a late developer on the clothes front, but I've suddenly realised it is one of life's joys.

I couldn__ talk about it, about them__ot yet. So I breathed __ater_ and hooked my feet around his legs, drawing him closer. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath. This__ needed this right now. It wouldn__ wash away what I__ done, but _ I needed him near, needed to smell and taste him, remind myself that he was real__his was real.__ater,_ he echoed, and leaned down to kiss me.It was soft, tentative__othing like the wild, hard kisses we__ shared in the hall of throne room. He brushed his lips against mine again. I didn__ want apologies, didn__ want sympathy or coddling. I gripped the front of his tunic, tugging him closer as I opened my mouth to him.He let out a low growl, and the sound of it sent a wildfire blazing through me, pooling and burning in my core. I let it burn through that hole in my chest, my soul. Let it raze through the wave of black that was starting to press around me, let it consume the phantom blood I could still feel on my hands. I gave myself to that fire, to him, as his hands roved across me, unbuttoning as he went.I pulled back, breaking the kiss to look into his face. His eyes were bright__ungry__ut his hands had stopped their exploring and rested firmly on my hips. With a predator__ stillness, he waited and watched as I traced the contours of his face, as I kissed every place I touched.His ragged breathing was the only sound__nd his hands soon began roaming across my back and sides, caressing and teasing and baring me to him. When my traveling fingers reached his mouth, he bit down on one, sucking it into his mouth. It didn__ hurt, but the bite was hard enough for me to meet his eyes again. To realize that he was done waiting__nd so was I.He eased me onto the bed, murmuring my name against my neck, the shell of my ear, the tips of my fingers. I urged him__aster, harder. His mouth explored the curve of my breast, the inside of my thigh.A kiss for each day we__ spent apart, a kiss for every wound and terror, a kiss for the ink etched into my flesh, and for all the days we would be together after this. Days, perhaps, that I no longer deserved. But I gave myself again to that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.

The truth which has been spoken too late is more damaging than a lie.

Don__ be late or I may end up marrying the judge.

I avoid that bleak first hour of the working day during which my still sluggish senses and body make every chore a penance. I find that in arriving later, the work which I do perform is of a much higher quality.

Leaders should know how fast time runs and how faster they can beat it. Poor leaders run slowly till time overtakes them.

The main way people waste time is by complaining of their past wasted time. Leaders respond even if it seems to be late.