C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
Procrastination
God has promised forgiveness to your repentance; but He has not promised to-morrow to your procrastination.
There is no dallying with God.
Lingering labors come to naught.
Delays have dangerous ends.
For yesterday was once to-morrow.
The man who procrastinates struggles with ruin.
Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.
There is, by God’s grace, an immeasurable distance between late and too late.
Faith in to-morrow, instead of Christ, is Satan’s nurse for man’s perdition.
Procrastination is the thief of time.
When things are come to the execution, there is no secrecy comparable to celerity.
Our good purposes foreslowed are become our tormentors upon our deathbed.
Whatever things injure your eye you are anxious to remove; but things which affect your mind you defer.
By one delay after another they spin out their whole lives, till there’s no more future left for them.
The greatest thief this world has ever produced is procrastination, and he is still at large.
By the streets of “By and By” one arrives at the house of “Never.”
Procrastination is the kidnapper of souls and the recruiting-officer of hell.
We pass our life in deliberation, and we die upon it.
Is not he imprudent, who, seeing the tide making haste towards him apace, will sleep till the sea overwhelms him?
Indulge in procrastination, and in time you will come to this, that because a thing ought to be done, therefore you can’t do it.
He who prorogues the honesty of to-day till to-morrow, will probably prorogue his to-morrows to eternity.
Let’s take the instant by the forward top; for we are old, and on our quick’st decrees the inaudible and noiseless foot of Time steals, ere we can effect them.
Procrastination has been called a thief,—the thief of time. I wish it were no worse than a thief. It is a murderer; and that which it kills is not time merely, but the immortal soul.
To procrastinate seems inherent in man, for if you do to-day that you may enjoy to-morrow it is but deferring the enjoyment; so that to be idle or industrious, vicious or virtuous, is but with a view of procrastinating the one or the other.
There is no moment like the present; not only so, but, moreover, there is no moment at all,—that is, no instant force and energy, but in the present. The man who will not execute his resolutions when they are fresh upon him can have no hope from them afterwards.
To be always intending to live a new life, but never to find time to set about it; this is as if a man should put off eating and drinking and sleeping from one day and night to another, till he is starved and destroyed.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow creeps in this petty pace, from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.