Quotes About Ephemeral

The Navajo teach their children that every morning when the sun comes up, it's a brand-new sun. It's born each morning, it lives for the duration of one day, and in the evening it passes on, never to return again.

The second reminder is impermanence. Life is very brief. Even if we live to be a hundred, it's very brief.

Dance is an ephemeral, a fleeting art. To describe this momentum, every movement on stage, in words is virtually impossible.

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.

What is fair in men, passes away, but not so in art

It is because everything must come to an end that everything is so beautiful.

It was a dream world, a kind of Alice in Wonderland, with its kings and queens, princes and princesses, and our millions of loyal subjects. But it wasn't real, and it couldn't last.

Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable.

Acting is a strange business; one day it's there, and the next day nowhere to be seen.

I never buy a piece of art. I don't see the point in buying something because I know my eyes will get bored of it eventually.

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

...as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn't touch.

The art of writing is mysterious, the opinions we hold are ephemeral.

Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

When I say to the Moment flying; 'Linger a while -- thou art so fair!' Then bind me in thy bonds undying, And my final ruin I will bear!

Death will come when thou art dead, soon, too soon.

Unfortunately, moral beauty in art - like physical beauty in a person - is extremely perishable.

The spoken word is ephemeral. The written word, eternal. A symphony, timeless.

I think it takes much greater courage to create things to be gone than to create things that will remain

Art is difficult transient is her reward.

maybe some people just aren't meant to be in our lives forever. Maybe some people are just passing through...

And as I looked at the star, I realised what millions of other people have realised when looking at stars. We're tiny. We don't matter. We're here for a second and then gone the next. We're a sneeze in the life of the universe.

It all meant something. Until it didn't.

But everyone disappears, no matter who loves them