Quotes About Ephemeral

A halál pillanata mindig szokatlan idÅ'pont.

There is a feeling the body gives the mind of having missed something, a bedrock poverty, like falling without the sense that you are passing through one world, that you could reach another anytime. Instead the real is crossing you, your body an arrival you know is false but can't outrun. And somewhere in between these geese forever entering and these spiders turning back, this astonishing delay, the everyday, takes place.

The permanent is ebbing. Is leaving nothing in the way of trails, they are blown over, grasses shoot up, life disturbing life…

One can never know how valuable is the paper he is holding. What would we pay for a menu from the feast at Aleutropolis!

Admiration is a very short-lived passion, that immediately decays upon growing familiar with its object.

Mirth is like a flash of lightning that breaks through a gloom of clouds and glitters for a moment.

History repeats itself, but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.

Like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker.

Why does it have to be like this? Why does life have to be so short, with all the good things passing quickly. Is it worth living at all?

Whatever has the nature to arise has the nature to cease.

A moving shadow means more to us than a body at rest. We are no longer taken in by a fixed grin. We know that only death has a rictus.

I no sooner put a stem down, when it's gone.

When the universe is ephemeral, one can easily feel that human existence is meaningless. Why should I do anything at all? On the other hand it is tempting to try and make the best of it. I'm here, anyway. The imagination won't cope if I try to picture where I'd otherwise be.

So now you have to live the rest of your life knowing you're going to die someday and disappear forever.

Time is the least thing we have of.

Time is the least thing we have.

We must die without much delay, and corpses may not require such expansive wrappings, in order to go the way of all flesh.

At times I see them as if I were walking through the streets of Pompeii before the eruption of Vesuvius. This is one of the historian's delights and, even more, his sorrow. If we see someone doing something for the last time, even just eating a piece of bread, this activity becomes wondrously profound. We participate in the transmutation of the ephemeral into the sacramental. We have inklings of eras during which such a sight was an everyday occurrence.

Of course, no one is easier to terrorize than the person who believes that everything is over when his fleeting phenomenon is extinguished.

You're right to say "hold on to" instead of "keep." To keep is presumptuous. To hold means you realize that today it's yours and tomorrow who knows.

The storm had rolled away to faintness like a wagon crossing a bridge.

Nous ne possédons réellement rien; tout nous traverse.

There are more dead people than living. And their numbers are increasing. The living are getting rarer.

Blossoming flowers look beautiful before they're cut or picked, but without soil or water they wither more quickly than grass.