Quotes About Ephemeral

Croyez-vous qu'il n'y ait pas de souffrance à être du vent ? Quelquefois ce vent porte jusqu'à nous des bribes de musique. Quelquefois la lumière porte jusqu'à vos regards des morceaux de nos apparences.

What a pity. How the stars and seas and rivers in their fragile lace of fog go on without us morning after morning, year after year. And we disappear.

Take happiness where you can," he said. "It seldom lasts—'course, neither does sorrow, right?

Strange to think of a form of love going extinct, like a carrier pigeon, a rare tortoise, a lilac or apple whose seeds are not to be found anymore, the scent and taste of the thing long lost, never to be touched again.

Strange people. The kind that leave the merest blur behind them, soon vanished. Hutte and I often used to talk about these traceless beings. They spring up out of nothing one fine day and return there, having sparkled a little. Beauty queens. Gigolos. Butterflies. Most of them, even when alive, had no more substance than steam which will never condense.

Life is completely different when you live near a railway station. It feels as if you're just passing through. Everything is temporary. One day or another, you'll hop on a train.

we had no real qualities, except the one that youth gives to everyone for a very brief time, like a big promise that will never be kept.

But these memories drifted away like bubbles of soap or fragments of a dream that vanished on waking.

In big cities, in the summertime, people of long since lost track of each other or who don't even know each other meet one evening on the terrace, and lose each other again. And none of it really matters.

Hutte répétait qu'au fond, nous sommes tous des "des hommes des plages" et que "le sable - je cite ses propre termes - ne garde que quelques secondes l'empreinte de nos pas".

Hutte was always saying that, in the end, we are all "beach men" and that "the sand"--I am quoting his own words-- keeps the traces of our footsteps only a few moment

Và chúng tôi ch?ng h? x?ng ???c nh? v?y, tr? m?i cái s? x?ng ?áng mà tu?i tr? ban phát cho b?t kì ai trong m?t quãng th?i gian r?t ng?n, nh? m?t l?i th? m? h? ch?ng gi? ???c bao gi?

El éxtasis no dura mucho, sin embargo. No tiene porvenir. Pronto nuestro impulso es frenado en seco.

Some things simply were too true to stay. Some merely came to visit for a while.

How odd to watch a mortal kindle Then to dwindle day by day. Knowing their bright souls are tinder And the wind will have its way.

I know not," I said modestly. "But I think she must not, for she caught me with an easy smile, then stole away without a word. Like dew in dawn's pale light." "Like a dream upon waking,

Vuestra vida se aleja como el sol poniente, la muerte se acerca como las sombras de la noche.

I have vague memories, like impressions on glass plates ...

Some things melt before they become memories.

Nothing lasts, you see, not even the thoughts inside you. And you musn't waste your time looking for them. Once a thing is gone, that is the end of it.

Our lives carry us along in ways we cannot control, and almost nothing stays with us. It dies when we do, and death is something that happens to us every day.

When you live in the city, you learn to take nothing for granted. Close your eyes for a moment, turn around to look at something else, and the thing that was before you is suddenly gone. Nothing lasts, you see, not even the thoughts inside you. And you mustn't waste your time looking for them. Once a thing is gone, that is the end of it.

One day there is life . . . and then, suddenly, it happens there is death

Everything solid for a time, and then the sun comes up one morning and the world begins to melt.