Quotes About Ephemeral

enjoy the now. It'll be gone soon enough, and no one knows what the next hour, much less tomorrow, will bring." Elena decided she should

How fragile our lives are anyway. How quickly things can change forever.

And though many women might enjoy the offering of such compliments, I did not want him to love me based on temporal things like a smile or voice or presence, things that could vanish through mood or an unexpected cloud. He must love me for the sake of love alone . . .

It was like being part of a wave of water," she says. "A wave of spray from the ocean feels powerful, but it is only there for a moment, the sun dries the puddles and the water is gone. Then you feel maybe it never happened. That is how it was with us. The only wave that changes anything is a tsunami. You have to tear down the houses and destroy the land if you want to be sure no one will forget you.

Our lives are but a splash of water on a stone, nothing more. Then I am the stone on which they fell, and they have marked me. So beware, because I loved them, and they have marked me.

Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever

Clearly, the pleasures wines afford are transitory, but so are those of the ballet or of a musical performance. Wine is inspiring and adds greatly to the joy of living.

Men of genius are meteors destined to burn themselves out in lighting up their age.

Life is funny like that; just about the time you're able to fully appreciate the accommodations, you're checking out of the hotel.

People still don't appreciate how ephemeral success is.

Love is but a flitting shadow, a lure, a gimcrack, a kickshaw.

Time flies over us, but leaves it shadow behind.

This mortal life decays apace How soon the bubble's broke Adam and all his numerous race Are Vanity and Smoke.

The written word endures, the spoken word disappears

You thought that you were the permanent part of your own experience, the net that held it all together—until you discovered that there were many selves, dissolving into one another so quickly over time that the buildings and the trees and even the pavement turned out to have more substance than you did.

there's something undoing about the dying light of mid-afternoon.

Pieces of story she would discover intact in her. She would draw them into the air with a single phrase and be elsewhere for a moment, eyes distant and eyelashes winging as an image fleeted past. Christy would gently try and bring forth more, but like a fallen chandelier inside her the whole was shattered and beyond repair and there were only exquisite shards.

all of them would be gone but be like remembered music or the amassed richness of a lived life.

in twenty seconds nothing was to be seen of her except floating fragments;

Stars have their moments then they die.

For me, an image becomes meaningless inasmuch as it's always temporary.

For me, an image becomes meaningless inasmuch as it's always temporary. See, I've gone off on that tangent again, because you asked me about the image and all that. I just couldn't relate to all that side of things because, all that time, I was focused on trying to make the music sound half-way decent.

At root fame is a sham. I'm not going to live forever and if I am I certainly need don't you to tell me that so that I will buy a car or a box of dried up crackers.

When I think of Simone now, I think of butterfly wings. Beautiful and excruciatingly delicate. Touch them once and they might disintegrate.