Quotes About Fragility

Gusci di uomini senza fede che avanzavano barcollanti sul selciato come nomadi in una terra febbricitante. La rivelazione finale della fragilità di ogni cosa. Vecchie e spinose questioni si erano risolte in tenebre e nulla. L'ultimo esemplare di una data cosa si porta con sé la categoria. Spegne la luce e scompare. Guardati intorno. Mai è un sacco di tempo. Ma il bambino la sapeva lunga. E sapeva che mai è l'assenza di qualsiasi tempo.

The frailty of everything revealed at last.

dwindling slowly on the road behind him like some storybook peddler from an antique time, dark and bent and spider thin and soon to vanish forever.

The boy looked at him. Finally he asked him why this was such a blessing and the blind man did not answer and did not answer and then at last he said that because what can be touched falls into dust there can be no mistaking these things for the real. At best they are only tracings of where the real has been.

White      There's nothing to follow. It's all right. The things that I loved were very frail. Very fragile. I didnt know that. I thought they were indestructible. They werent. Black      And that's what sent you off the edge of the platform. It wasnt nothin personal. White It is personal. That's what an education does. It makes the world personal.

Nothing's forever. It wasnt the sort of news that a cat likes to hear.

Reality is a fragile thing.

Girl. Woman. So much more vulnerable. Strong and yet weak. A heart that knew no armor.

It sounded as if his mother were breaking into small pieces, such tiny pieces that no one would ever be able to put her together again. But he wanted to keep her!

I am like a goldsmith hammering day and night Just so I can extend pain Into a gold ornament as thin as a cicada's wing Xi Murong

Men! A few nights of coughing and they see the reaper standing by their bedside.

Memories. They were all she had left. No more tangible than the pictures conjured up by books. But what would be left if she lost those memories too?

I understood how easily and how quickly things could be snatched away.

Un uomo? -risposi ridendo- Un uomo è cosa ancor più triste e più orrenda di questo mucchio di carne sfatta. Un uomo è orgolgio, crudeltà, tradimento, viltà, violenza. La carne sfatta è tristezza, pudore, paura, rimorso, speranza. Un uomo, un uomo vivo, è poca cosa, in confronto di un mucchio di carne marcia.

Can you never like things without clutching them as if you wanted to pull the heart out of them? Why don't you have a bit more restraint, or reserve, or something? She looked up at him full of pain, then continued slowly to stroke her lips against a ruffled flower. Their scent, as she smelled it, was so much kinder than he; it almost made her cry.

what a frail, easily hurt, rather pathetic thing a human body is, naked; somehow a little unfinished, incomplete!

He had so very nearly lost his life, that what remained was wonderfully precious to him.

Because I feel you did something to him - sort of broke him - broke his manliness. What did you do? If I broke his manliness, it must have been a very easy thing to break.

Because, after all, like so many modern men, he was finished almost before he had begun.

All men are babies, when you come to the bottom of them. Why, I've handled some of the toughest customers as ever went down Tevershall pit. But let anything ail them so that you have to do for them, and they're babies, just big babies. Oh, there's not much difference in men!

Paul was treated to dazzling descriptions of all kinds of flower-like ladies, most of whom lived like cut blooms in William's heart, for a brief fortnight.

She laid the doll on the sofa, and covered it with an antimacassar, to sleep. Then she forgot it. Meantime Paul must practise jumping off the sofa arm. So he jumped crash into the face of the hidden doll. Annie rushed up, uttered a loud wail, and sat down to weep a dirge. Paul remained quite still. ... He seemed to hate the doll so intensely, because he had broken it.

She usually shooed me out when I caught her naked, but Daddy's anger had left her far away and careless. The ashtray sat on the edge of the tub, filled with stubbed-out Pall Malls; the bathroom was thick with smoke that moved when I moved.

Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems