Quotes About Ephemeral

The present moment is nice but it does not last. Living in it is like waiting in a junction town for the morning limited the junction may be interesting but some day you will have to leave it and you do not know where the limited will take you.

Remembrance is the only paradise out of which we cannot be driven away. Pleasure is the flower that fades, remembrance is the lasting perfume. Remembrances last longer than present realities; I have preserved blossoms for many years, but never fruits.

For ordinary books are like meteors. Each of them has only one moment, a moment when it soars screaming like the phoenix, all its pages aflame. For that single moment we love them ever after, although they soon turn to ashes. With bitter resignation we sometimes wander late at night through the extinct pages that tell their stone dead messages like wooden rosary beads.

I sneezed and she was gone.

Then haste thee, Time--'tis kindness all That speeds thy winged feet so fast: Thy pleasures stay not till they pall, And all thy pains are quickly past.

This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds. To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance. A lifetime is a flash of lightning in the sky. Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.

Times of luxury do not last long, but pass away very quickly nothing in this world can be long enjoyed.

Las cosas más maravillosas son siempre aquellas que no pueden expresarse, los recuerdos más sentidos no dejan epitafios.

El mundo es un barco que pasa temporalmente, sin realizar un viaje completo.

All dies! and not alone The aspiring trees and men and grass; The poets' forms of beauty pass, And noblest deeds they are undone, Even truth itself decays, and lo, From truth's sad ashes pain and falsehood grow.

What's the use of elaborating what, in its very essence, is so short-lived as a modern book. Though I wrote the Gospels in this century, I should die in the gutter.

Remember this, if you can—there is nothing, nothing more precious than time.

Miserable mortals who, like leaves, at one moment flame with life, eating the produce of the land, and at another moment weakly perish

The race of men is like the race of leaves. As one generation flourishes, another decays.

The race of man is as the race of leaves: Of leaves, one generation by the wind Is scattered on the earth; another soon In spring's luxuriant verdure bursts to light.

As the wind scatters leaves upon the earth, such is the race of men

Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again

It was built against the will of the immortal gods, and so it did not last for long.

Let us e'er be merry while we may, for man is but dust, and he hath but a span to live here till the worm getteth him, as our good gossip Swanthold sayeth; so let life be merry while it lasts, say I.

They were here, and then they weren't, and that was all there was.

But innocence is only pleasurable because it is transient.

He saw that no one owned anything really. It's all rented, or borrowed. Our possessions will outlast us, we'll desert them in the end.

How quickly the dead faded into each other

She's not dead, Henry kept telling himself. But her life, all lives, seemed tenuous when he saw how quickly, with what ease, all the trappings, all the fine details of a lifetime could be packed and scattered, or junked.