Quotes About Ephemeral

The number of books in the world is infinite, and one is forced to glimpse and nod and move on after a moment of talk, a flash of understanding, as, in the street outside, one catches a word in passing and from a chance phrase fabricates a lifetime.

Prompted by the sky, which seemed to make it all a little futile—what they said, what they did—she said something perfectly commonplace again.

I shall be dumped where the weed decays, And the rest is rust and stardust

Beauty plus pity-that is the closest we can get to a definition of art. Where there is beauty there is pity for the simple reason that beauty must die: beauty always dies, the manner dies with the matter, the world dies with the individual.

Life is a message scribbled in the dark.

leaving for a day or two that hopeless sense of loss which makes beauty what it is: a distant lone tree against golden heavens; ripples of light on the inner curve of a bridge; a thing impossible to capture.

It's exactly my sense of existing - a fragment, a wisp of color.

The days of my youth, as I look back on them; seem to fly away from me in a flurry of pale repetitive scraps like those morning snow storms of used tissue paper that a train passenger sees whirling in the wake of the observation can.

For we die every day; oblivion thrives Not on dry thighbones but on blood-ripe lives, And our best yesterdays are now foul piles Of crumpled names, phone numbers and foxed files.

Time is but memory in the making.

A soap bubble is as real as a fossil tooth.

Freedom for the moment is everything

The days of my youth, as I look back on them, seem to fly away from me in a flurry of pale repetitive scraps like those morning snow storms of used tissue paper that a train passenger sees whirling in the wake of the observation car.

Alas, the objects I had assembled wander away. The young poplar dims and takes off to return where it had been fetched from. The brick wall dissolves. The house draws in its little balconies one by one, then turns, and floats away. Everything floats away. Harmony and meaning vanish. The world irks me again with its variegated void.

so that beautiful idea, which otherwise would have lingered on and perhaps found a wall on which to hang and blossom, had strangely faded and shrivelled in the course of the last week.

The orange blossom would have scarcely withered on the grave', as a poet might have said. But I am not poet. I am only a very conscientious recorder.

Ya?ay?p bitirdi?i her günün, tutulmaz bir ku? olup uçtu?una, yava? yava? gözden silinip bir küçük kara noktaya dönü?tü?üne karar verdi. Gözünü yumdu?unda her yan?n? saran karanl???n, bu küçük kara noktalardan olu?tu?unu ke?fetti.

The wind has toppled the telescope over onto the lawn: So much for stars. Your brief shot at the universe, gone.

Funny how you notice how beautiful things are just when you're about to leave them, she thought.

For some life lasts a short while, but the memories it holds last forever.

Time is a ribbon, a delicate organdy, so thin that you can see through it to the layer of time below and the layer above. Moments overlapping, lying on top of each other.

Parents don't get that, though. They don't understand about the fragility of teen friendships. They don't understand how easy it is for things to break apart, how someone you thought would be by your side forever can just disappear, or turn on you, or decide she likes someone more than she likes you. Parents always talk about romantic relationships being so ephemeral and fleeting in high school. What they don't get is that friendships can be the same way.

All I knew now was that nothing lasted forever, not even a friendship, and that being "different" felt the same as being alone.

the window was down and my music was blasting and i was like, i am the sun on my skin. i am the clouds in the sky. i'm everything i've ever seen or done or felt or heard, and one day i will be gone.