Quotes About Fragility

He confirmado que no existe diferencia entre todos los demás y yo! Basta con un mal día para que el hombre más cuerdo del mundo enloquezca. A esa distancia está el mundo de mí. A un mal día.

All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy.

La membrana dell'amore è delicata, basta un graffio accidentale a lacerarla. Se i dubbi di Rìmini l'avevano danneggiata, rendendola vulnerabile all'infezione che, per un innamorato, cova nel desiderio di vivere una vita diversa dalla propria, l'esperienza della catastrofe era bastata a rigenerarla.

I looked at this man. He was in his fifties, mostly bones inside his black suit, and gave off an odour, if you were as close up to him as I was, of a long-closed keyboard opened suddenly in an empty house. (73)

She's a rare vase, out of a cat's reach, on its shelf.

Each of us is leading a difficult life, and when we meet people we are seeing only a tiny part of the thinnest veneer of their complex, troubled existences. To practise anything other than kindness towards them, to treat them in any way save generously, is to quietly deny their humanity.

One of the floral arrangements swayed like a drunken sailor, then toppled, clattering to the floor.

As for Bessi, she spent her first human month in an incubator, with wires in her chest, limbs straggling and pleading like a beetle on its back. The incubator had a lot to answer for.

I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

More often than not, family stories turn out to be etched in sand rather than granite. Even the parts we think are true—even the parts about ourselves—crumble

More often than not, family stories turn out to be etched in sand rather than granite. Even the parts we think are true—even the parts about ourselves—crumble under scrutiny. These are the lies we tell everyone who knows us. These are the lies we tell ourselves.

The dignity of man was everywhere tissue-paper thin.

I was doing well enough until you came along and kicked my stone over, and out I came, all moss and eyes.

The very condition of Woman is so subject to Hazard, so complex, and so grievous, that to place her at one moment is but to displace her at the next.

We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.

It's the decomposition that gets me. You spend your whole life looking after your body. And then you rot away.

Life is an egg you have to be patient and careful with it or it will break.

The world looks marvelous from up here, so peaceful, so wonderful and so fragile. Everybody, all of us down there, not only in Israel, have to keep it clean and good.

Life is a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it.

Even in our best shape we are a brittle piece of mortality. Your life is a breath, don't waste it.

I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain

Globalization is a fact of life. But I believe we have underestimated its fragility.

Life, for people, begins to crumble on the edges; they don't realize it.

Oh, we are but soft and squishy bags of mortality rolling in a bin of sharp circumstance, leaking life until we collapse, flaccid, into our own despair.