Quotes About Ephemeral

I like the ephemeral thing about theatre, every performance is like a ghost - it's there and then it's gone.

What I love about theatre is that it disappears as it happens.

If I do depart this world out here, let it be known that I went out grinning will you, and loving it. LOVING IT. Steve, are you listening ? I FEEL GREAT. Life's so joyous, so sad, so ephemeral, so crazy, so meaningless, so goddamn funny. This is paradise, and I wish I could give you some.

We move through each other's lives like ghosts, leaving behind haunting memories of people who never existed.

There's a word for it," she told me, "in French, for when you have a lingering impression of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explodes and lights up the smoke from the ones before it.

Nothing lasts, even this awesome floaty feeling. We all reach for whatever we think is going to dull the pain, and sometimes we don't even want whatever it is, we just want to not be miserable, you know?

There's a word for it," she told me, "in French, for when you have a lingering impression of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explores and lights up the smoke from the ones before it.

She tasted the way fireworks felt, like something you could get close to but never really have just for yourself.

Well, I think it's beautiful. A word for remembering small moments destined to be lost.

Love is a sweet thing caught a moment and held in a golden eye.

We come. We go. And in between we try to understand.

Dreaming was only nice while it lasted.

and be merry, for tomorrow we die'.

a single point in space and time.

Life is a fragile hybrid throbbing, at each instant, between being and nothingness.

Wir waren die, die verschwanden. Wir lebten als der Mensch, der sich in der Tür umdreht, noch etwas sagen will, aber nichts mehr zu sagen hat.

J'étais tellement heureux que je voulais mourir parce que le bonheur il faut le saisir pendant qu'il est là.

It's not that we have to quit this life one day, but it's how many things we have to quit all at once: music, laughter, the physics of falling leaves, automobiles, holding hands, the scent of rain, the concept of subway trains... if only one could leave this life slowly!

It's not that we have to quit this life one day, it's how many things we have to quit all at once: holding hands, hotel rooms, music, the physics of falling leaves, vanilla and jasmine, poppies, smiling, anthills, the color of the sky, coffee and cashmere, literature, sparks and subway trains... If only one could leave this life slowly!

I fancied my luck to be witnessing yet another full moon. True, I'd seen hundreds of full moons in my life, but they were not limitless. When one starts thinking of the full moon as a common sight that will come again to one's eyes ad-infinitum, the value of life is diminished and life goes by uncherished. 'This may be my last moon,' I sighed, feeling a sudden sweep of sorrow; and went back to reading more of The Odyssey.

The youthful body untouched decays the fastest, for no living hands record its splendor; and here youth and time are wasted.

I care not that this moment's lot was thin and sparsely dealt; all pleasures sweet can be forgot the instant they are felt.

It's not that we have to leave this life one day, it's how many things we have to leave all at once: holding hands, hotel rooms, wine, summertime, drunkenness, and the physics of falling leaves, clothing, myrrh, perfumed hair, flirting friends, two strangers' glance; the reflection of the moon, with words like, 'Soon' ... 'do you want me?' ... '...to lie enlaced' ... 'and sleep entwined' thinking ahead, with thoughts behind...?' Ô, Why! Why can't we leave this life slowly?

Your living or dying is just a piss in the ocean.