Quotes About Fleeting

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

Par moments, le lien s'amenuise et risque de se rompre, d'autres soirs la ville d'hier m'apparaît en reflets furtifs derrière celle d'aujourd'hui.

T?i sao nh?ng ng??i mà ta không ng? có t?n t?i , nh?ng ng??i ta ch? g?p m?t l?n r?i thôi, l?i âm th?m ?óng vai trò r?t quan tr?ng trong cu?c ??i ta?

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.

It was one of those perfect Autumn days so common in stories and rare in the real world.

If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you're lucky. Even if it only lasts for a minute or a day.

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.

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. Would I could my own fire lend. What does your flickering portend?

the desperate feel of the last warm night of summer.

IT WAS ONE OF those perfect autumn days so common in stories and so rare in the real world. The

they are young, and drunk, and busy knowing deep in their hearts that they will never grow old or die.

IT WAS ONE OF those perfect autumn days so common in stories and so rare in the real world.

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 ...

Why is it that we lose the things we love, and things cavalier cling to us and will be the measure of our worth after we're gone?

Without noticing, I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination of melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small blue planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue.

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.

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

La vida nos arrastra de muchas maneras que no podemos controlar y casi nada permanece con nosotros. Muere cuando nosotros morimos, y la muerte es algo que nos sucede todos los días.

These are the last things, she wrote. One by one they disappear and never come back. I can tell you of the ones I have seen, of the ones that are no more, but I doubt there will be time. It is all happening too fast now, and I cannot keep up.

We promised to stay in touch with each other, but of course we never did, and that was the last time I ever saw her. 'You're

La petite mort' and 'la grande mort' within ten seconds of each other—coming and going in the space of three short breaths.