Quotes About Ephemeral

Time just gets away from us.

The plain truth is we are going to die. Here I am, a teeny spec surrounded by boundless space and time, arguing with the whole of creation, shaking my fist, sputtering, growing even eloquent at times, and then-poof! I am gone. Swept off once and for all. I think that is very, very funny.

You must be in fashion is the utterance of weak headed mortals.

I write your name for the last time in this mist, White breath on the windowpane, And watch it vanish. No, it stays there.

As if I were an incense stick incrementally burning off, first into smoke, and then becoming a part of the room.

CLEMENTINE: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon. JOEL: I know. CLEMENTINE: What do we do? JOEL: Enjoy it.

There is something horrible about a flower; This, broken in my hand, is one of those He threw it in just now; it will not live another hour; There are thousands more; you do not miss a rose

...Thus in each flower and simple bell, That in our path untrodden lie, Are sweet remembrancers who tell How fast the winged moments fly. Time will steal on with ceaseless pace, Yet lose we not the fleeting hours, Who still their fairy footsteps trace, As light they dance among the flowers.

Remind yourself often that self-esteem is ephemeral. You will have it, lose it, cultivate it, nurture it, and be forced to rebuild it over and over again.

So I started in, but I could not go on. Each word I spoke erased itself in the air.

History is a record of destruction. One must always make room for the next ephemeral crystal.

The mind is the most capricious of insects — flitting, fluttering.

How bright and beautiful a comet is as it flies past our planet — provided it does fly past it.

We are only but guests at Time's tea party.

Time strode with the swiftness of spring blossoms.

I tried to catch some fog. I mist.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold...

fragility of life, finality of death

Time stays, we go.

She thought about how this summer was small. On the ground, it felt huge, but really, it was just a moment in a series of moments.

Death walks faster than the wind and never returns what he has taken.

Like a wind crying endlessly through the universe, Time carries away the names and the deeds of conquerors and commoners alike. And all that we were, all that remains, is in the memories of those who cared we came this way for a brief moment.

Do you not feel me near? I'm bending forward on the wind of thought, Sailing toward you on the lake of mind. O share this moment which may not be brought Ever to life again, once left behind.

None of these men stayed around very long, though neither Greening nor anyone else ever witnessed their departure. Strangely, every one of them left his trunk behind.