Quotes About Ephemeral

Time's a strange fellow; more he gives than takes (and he takes all).

It is not happiness until you capture it and store it out of the reach of time.

Some wee short hour ayont the twal.

Whatever enjoyment I might have had at the time would disappear overnight like snow melting on a warm roof.

It's going to be over soon, so I don't really have time to get busy.

Time, that most abstract of humanity's homes.

What is happiness, after all, but the fleeting, transitory butterfly of an emotion that is impossible to catch and hold for long before it flies away.

La escritura: la escritura llega como el viento, está desnuda, es la tinta, es lo escrito, y pasa como nada pasa en la vida, nada, excepto eso, la vida.

L'écrit ça arrive comme le vent, c'est nu, c'est de l'encre, c'est l'écrit, et ça passe comme rien d'autre ne passe dans la vie, rien de plus, sauf elle, la vie. »

The death of a fly is still death. It's death marching toward a certain end of the world, which widens the field of the final sleep. When you see a dog die, or a horse die, you say something, like poor thing … But when a fly dies, nothing is said, no one records it, nothing.

La felicità è invece propriamente un lampo istantaneo che chiama il calore fisico da ogni parte del nostro corpo e mentre sale al cervello sparisce. L'infelicità, invece, ha un irraggiamento più tenace nell'assalirci e nel durare, e si mostra in più modi anche analogici.

One day we'll all be dead and none of this will matter.

The first flush couldn't last for ever. Everyone knew that.

Elle essaie de former des sons avec sa bouche. Mais ils éclatent comme des bulles, et ne reste qu'une impression blanche, un pli dans quelque chose qui se lisse dès qu'apparu, qui s'efface sitôt pensé. (p245)

All that blooms must fall.

Everything that falls upon the eye is apparition, a sheet dropped over the world's true workings. The nerves and the brain are tricked, and one is left with dreams that these specters loose their hands from ours and walk away, the curve of the back and the swing of the coat so familiar as to imply that they should be permanent fixtures of the world, when in fact nothing is more perishable.

Adulthood is a wonderful thing, and brief. You must be sure to enjoy it while it lasts.

Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy.

We fly forgotten as a dream, certainly, leaving the forgetful world behind us to trample and mar and misplace everything we have ever cared for. That is just the way of it, and it is remarkable.

That wind! ...it called to mind the small, scarce, stemmy flowers that she and Edmund would walk half a day to pick, though in another day they would all be wilted. Sometimes Edmund would carry buckets and a trowel, and lift them earth and all, and bring them home to plant, and they would die. They were rare things, and grew out of ants' nests and bear dung and the flesh of perished animals.

Though I must say all this has given me a new glimpse of the ongoingness of the world. We fly forgotten as a dream, certainly, leaving the forgetful world behind us to trample and mar and misplace everything we have ever cared for. That is just the way of it, and it is remarkable.

A moment is such a slight thing, I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve.     Once

Dan camkan ini, pada hari di mana kalian berhenti berjalan, kalian akan lenyap seutuhnya.

Screen fictions are intense in their immediacy and ephemeral in terms of their effects: they seize us and then release us almost immediately; with literary fictions, we are prisoners for life.