Quotes About Fragility

Tutto ciò che è nel tempo passerà con il tempo e nulla di ciò che appartiene a questo mondo transitorio e fragile merita più di un rispetto un po' distaccato e di un assenso ironico. Si può benissimo morire per la propria patria, per le proprie idee, per quelli che si amano. Non c'è niente di più onorevole. Ma soltanto ciò che è eterno merita un affetto senza riserve.

Timpul aducea cu el toate lucrurile care ne distrugeau ?i de care ne temeam: uzura, del?sarea, schimbarea, declinul ?i uitarea.

It's amazing that God lavishes so much attention to detail in a body that won't last, but He does that everywhere: in that tiny, delicate, finely veined alpine flower that quivers in the mountain chill and then fades and dies, as well as in my body. I am a wonder!

The most alive of worlds, human beings with the tenderest flesh, are made of marble.

AINSI JE RESTE SEUL, oublié de lui qui dort dans mes bras. La mer est calme. Je n'ose bouger. Sa présence serait plus terrible que son voyage hors de moi. Peut­ être vomirait-il sur ma poitrine. Et qu'y pourrais-je faire ? Trier ses vomissures ? y chercher parmi le vin, la viande, la bile, ces violettes et ces roses qu'y délayent et délient les filets de sang ?

These old eyes of mine barely see your hands on the table. Illuminated by this candlelight, they look like yellow spiders. Still, they're finely wrought Jewish hands. Whatever they hold, shall not easily be relinquished.

Life shouldn't be easy to lose. It's everything we have. The only thing we have, really--then gone so fast.

You live in a glass house, Mr. Smith.

Her body feels like cracked glass, already shattered, and held in place only by a trick of temporary gravity. One wrong move and she will come to pieces.

Everything about him changed when he talked about her—his voice, his face, his manner. His love for her was so earnest that he handled even the subject of her with tremendous care. Her name was like a fine glass bauble he was afraid of dropping.

The body politic, like the human body, begins to die from its birth, and bears in itself the causes of its destruction.

Death is an absolute mystery. We are all vulnerable to it, it's what makes life interesting and suspenseful.

As Woods lay unconscious on the road at 2:25 a.m. on November 27, 2009, blood on his teeth and lips, he finally appeared as he truly was-a vulnerable, fragile, deeply wounded person.

Lives were complicated. The smallest things could trip you up. Those who could least afford it paid the most. Things could escalate in a heartbeat. The biggest mystery was how to turn it down without bowing down. And a life, in all its singularity and strangeness, was always worth the lifting, the telling, and the protecting, and never only for its fragility.

Do you understand? Nothing thrives without being broken. Nothing exists without being dead first.

Hadn't the hummingbird been a kind of miracle? Hadn't it diminished us not to see this as a miracle and protect it?

The line between life and death is not thicker than an eyelid.

Se muere con demasiada facilidad. Morir debería ser mucho más difícil. PDH

Next to him lay his violin, trampled, an eerily poignant little corpse.

You know, sometimes marriage is iron. Sometimes it's tissue paper. And I think the times it's tissue paper are when you need to keep things to yourself. Or you can end up making a mistake that you'll regret forever.

It seemed there was a leak in my life.

Yes, except that nothing sleeps inside but furniture, and that's probably gone to pieces by now. Time gets into anything; yes, indeed it does; and weather helps it.

Every intimacy carries secreted somewhere below its initial lovely surfaces, the ever-coiled makings of complete catastrophe.

There's something about a showgirl that always breaks my heart. Youth and beauty-they're such a short lease, girlie.