Quotes About Ephemeral

Love comes like lightning , and disappears the same way.. If you are lucky it strikes you right..

The problem with mango plucking is the fruit falls too quickly; and harvest season is over far too soon.

All the things we make exceptional are merely borrowed from the mundane and must without warning be surrendered to it.

Oh, thought Tom, so it finishes as quickly as this. All the things we make exceptional are merely borrowed from the mundane and must without warning be surrendered to it.

He liked the fragility of those moments suspended in time. Those memories whose only function is to leave just a trace in memory.

She accepts the ways of this visitor as a natural phenomenon; How he comes and goes, exists, talks, laughs with her, falls silent, listens to her, and then he vanishes.

Strange, though, that we can never catch it in the act.

Nella nostra società individualista, e quindi lacerata e incoerente, abbiamo dimenticato il passato e non attribuiamo importanza se non all'effimero. Per questo corriamo verso la catastrofe, e le nuove tecnologie, contrariamente all'opinione diffusa, non ci salveranno affatto. La religione è l'oppio dei popoli, Internet è la sua eroina.

The sensation felt like spinning too fast on a merry-go-round. Each fraction of a second her eyes focused on a new face in a crowd. Within seconds the face was gone, whisked to a blur, replaced by another face that would just as soon be lost.

to be old...anonymous as the clouds

Childhood is a short season.

The Moment opens. The moment closes. There is sunlight. There is frost. There is the brief idea of roses amid the patch of weeds.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.

the world is full of signs and wonders that come, and go, and if you are lucky you might see them. Once, twice. Perhaps never again.

Some things happen only once, twice in a lifetime. The world is full of signs and wonders that come, and go, and if you are lucky you might be alive to see them.

I remembered something from a short story I'd read, about how the girl you want is the girl you see once and then she is nowhere to be found. The girl who does not appear in the crowded room.

Materiality begets oblivion.

We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished, there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.

The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box.

Life is once, forever.

We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory.

A bubble of air in the blood, a drop of water in the brain, and a man is out of gear, his machine falls to pieces, his thought vanishes, the world disappears from him like a dream at morning. On what a spider thread is hung our individual existence!

Each bud flowers but once and each flower has but its minute of perfect beauty; so, in the garden of the soul each feeling has, as it were, its flowering instant, its one and only moment of expansive grace and radiant kingship.

The years like birds of passage go To that eternal clime, the past; And May's immortal lot is cast Upon their flight o'er all below, Like sunlight on a field of snow, Or some sweet rose-leaf on the blast.