Quotes About Ephemeral

[A]s if life were a thunder-storm wherein you can see by a flash the horizon, and then cannot see your hand.

If there's another thing that sportswriting teaches you, it is that there are no transcendent themes in life. In all cases things are here and they're over, and that has to be enough.

Life and death were so unpredictable. So close to each other. We existed moment to moment, never knowing who would be the next to leave this world.

Life is evanescent, but left to itself it rarely fails to offer some consolation.

Life is like a great jazz riff. You sense the end the very moment you were wanting it to go on forever.

I could even feel how perishable all my moments really were, how all my life they had come to me begging to be lived, to be cherished even.

Your life can end in a flash before you even have time to know it's over. There is no safe. There is no control.

The end of all is death and man's life passeth away suddenly as a shadow.

O harp of life, so speedily unstrung!

Whosoever enjoys not this life, I count him but an apparition, though he wear about him the sensible affections of flesh. In these moral acceptions, the way to be immortal is to die daily.

Today will never come again.

Your life is a blank, and you're barely a shade across it.

In life nothing goes on for ever, even if it looks exactly as if it would.

There's no such thing as life; or if there is, It is faster than the weather, faster than Any character. It is more than any scene: Of the guillotine or of any glamorous hanging.

Our lives fade behind us before we die.

Nothing goes sour more easily than the life of pleasure.

The May of life blooms once and never again.

Remember that life is short and death is long.

all of us were here for a little while, and then we were somewhere else; we were not alive at all; we approached living, but we never achieved it. We are going to die. Everybody was going to die.

Il mondo non era che un mito, un aereo trasparente, su cui tutto era in transito; anche noi […], eravamo qui solo di passaggio per finire poi chissà dove. Non eravamo vivi, noi, ci limitavamo a sfiorare la vita senza mai afferrarla.

A work of infinite moment depends on a moment of time.

It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.

and here's a secret for you - everything beautiful is sad...gilded with impermanence...

strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...