Quotes About Fragility

The fragility of mortals bred kindness and good grace. They knew how to value friendship and an open hand.

Will you tell me, what is a mortal like?" "There is no single answer. They are each different. The only thing they share is death.

No matter how vivid they were in life, no matter how brilliant, no matter the wonders they made, they came to dust and smoke. Meanwhile every petty and useless god would go on sucking down the bright air until the stars went dark.

Even a best iron grows brittle with too much beating

Si dice che le donne siano creature delicate, come fiori, come uova, come qulsiasi cosa che possa essere schiacciata in un momento di negligenza. Se mai ci avevo creduto, non era più così.

What is a mortal like?" It was a child's question, but he nodded gravely. "There is no single answer. They are each different. The only thing they share is death. You know the word?

If he had looked at me then, I would have broken. I would have begun to weep and never stopped.

bajo la apariencia plácida y familiar de las cosas, hay otra cara que aguarda el momento de romper el mundo en pedazos.

Girls and boys would sigh over him, but all I saw were the thousand soft places of his body where his life might be ended.

But how is there glory in taking a life? We die so easily.

Morimos con demasiada facilidad.

his beautiful body lost to bones and gray ash.

Uno nunca está tan solo como cuando se es adolescente y tiene un secreto, nunca se duele tanto, nunca se despedaza por dentro más que a esa edad cuando en vez de formarse, uno se está rompiendo.

I know we're still here, who knows for how long, ablaze with our care, its ongoing song.

Daily I think about moving the most vulnerable objects to a "cool, dark place," but the truth is that I have little to no instinct for protection. Out of laziness, curiosity, or cruelty—if one can be cruel to objects—I have given them up to their diminishment.

This person is now lost to her for ever. She is someone adrift in her life, who doesn't recognise it. She is unmoored, at a loss. She is someone who weeps if she cannot find a shoe or overboils the soup or trips over a pot. Small things undo her. Nothing is certain any more.

She has always cried such enormous tears, like heavy pearls, quite at odds with the slightness of her frame.

All I was aware of was this hole, this gaping hole where my heart should have been. I read somewhere once that your heart is supposed to be the same size as your clenched fist, but this hole felt far bigger. It seemed to expand over my whole upper body and it felt cold, vacant - the cooling wind seemed to cut right through it. I felt frail and insubstantial, as if the wind could have blown me away.

Ahora esa persona se ha perdido para siempre. Va a la deriva, no reconoce su propia vida. Está desamarrada, extraviada. Es una persona que llora si no encuentra un zapato, si cuece la sopa más de lo debido o tropieza con un cacharro. Las cosas pequeñas la deshacen. Ya no hay certezas, nada es seguro.

How were they to know that Hamnet was the pin holding them together? That without him they would all fragment and fall apart, like a cup shattered on the floor?

She is someone adrift in her life, who doesn't recognise it. She is unmoored, at a loss. She is someone who weeps if she cannot find a shoe or overboils the soup or trips over a pot. Small things undo her. Nothing is certain any more.

Her feet moved over the earth with confidence and grace. This person is now lost to her for ever. She is someone adrift in her life, who doesn't recognise it. She is unmoored, at a loss. She is someone who weeps if she cannot find a shoe or overboils the soup or trips over a pot. Small things undo her. Nothing is certain any more.

When you engender a life, you open yourself to risk, to fear. Holding my child, I realised my vulnerability to death: I was frightened of it, for the first time. I knew all too well how fine a membrane separates us from that place, and how easily it can be perforated.

The trick is never to let down your guard. Never think you are safe. Never take for granted that your children's hearts beat, that they sup milk, that they draw breath, that they walk and speak and smile and argue and play. Never for a moment forget they may be gone, snatched from you, in the blink of an eye, borne away from you like thistledown.