Quotes About Ephemeral

Success is very ephemeral. You depend entirely on the desire of others, which makes it difficult to relax.

Success is extremely ephemeral and very hard to hold onto.

We are only beginning to learn what to say in a photograph. The world we live in is a succession of fleeting moments, any one of which might say something significant.

I remember pogs and sticky hands. I remember both. I wanted to get into pogs. I remember it was, like, all of a sudden it was here, then gone.

Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever.

But because truly being here is so much; because everything here apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all.

For our part, when we feel, we evaporate; ah, we breathe ourselves out and away; with each new heartfire we give off a fainter scent. True, someone may tell us: you're in my blood, this room, Spring itself is filled with you . . . To what end? He can't hold us, we vanish within him and around him.

Everyone once, once only. Just once and no more. And we also once. Never again. But this having been once, although only once, to have been of the earth, seems irrevocable.

O shooting star that fell into my eyes and through my body-: not to forget you. To endure.

We only pass everything by like a transposition of air.

It was not in me It came and went I wanted to hold it It was held by wine (I no longer know what it was)

Oh quickly disappearing photograph in my more slowly disappearing hand.

IMPERMANENCE Driftsand of the hours. Quietly disappearing, continuously, even the happily consecrated design. Life blows away, always: pillars already rise without connection, carrying nothing but empty air.

a band of painted horses, all from that bright land that lingers for so long before it fades

We are not permitted to linger, even with what is most intimate. From images that are full, the spirit plunges on to others that suddenly must be filled; there are no lakes till eternity. Here, falling is best. To fall from the mastered emotion into the guessed-at, and onward.

of all the disfigured and decaying Things, which, after all, are essentially nothing more than accidental remains from another time and from a life that is not and should not be ours.

Look, the trees are; the houses we live in still stand. We alone go past them like an exchange of vapors. And things conspire to tell us nothing, half in shame, perhaps, half in unspoken hope.

Ein Mal jedes, nur ein Mal. Ein Mal und nicht mehr. Und wir auch ein Mal. Nie wieder. Aber dieses ein Mal gewesen zu sein, wenn auch nur ein Mal: irdisch gewesen zu sein, scheint nicht widerrufbar.

Most events are inexpressible, and take place in a sphere that no word has ever entered. Most inexpressible of all are works of art, existences full of secrets whose life continues alongside ours, while ours is transitory.

There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.

Nature is a mutable cloud which is always and never the same

The world of any moment is the merest appearance. Some great decorum, some fetish of government, some ephemeral trade, or war, or man, is cried up by half mankind and cried down by the other half, as if it all depended on this particular up or down.

The frolic architecture of the snow.

No truth so sublime but it may be trivial to-morrow in the light of new thoughts.