Quotes About Transience

A little while, their hunger unfulfilled, The mothlike worlds flit 'round the guttering sun. (Ephemera)

El tiempo no significa más que la huida de los objetos que parecían verdaderos.

you will recognize happines when you see it die

Kesilen ka??t elden ç?kar?lmad?kça, kavalye kupadan üstün deÄŸildir.

I seek the eternal and the ephemeral.

Is it not strange how quickly one can become detached from everything? How empty life appears when one is close to death!

The pink petals hung raw and shook with the cold and wind. How they hung on out of season, the struggle of it, the strength it took. Not long now, and they'd be brown stains on a stalk.

but while you are wondering whether she be angel or devil, she is gone.

What if you wake up only to die that day?

Our technological infrastructure alienates us from each other. No need to form a workplace community, everybody there will be out in a year or two, and so will you, looking for a better place.

Works of art often last forever, or nearly so. But exhibitions themselves, especially gallery exhibitions, are like flowers; they bloom and then they die, then exist only as memories, or pressed in magazines and books.

When we die our money, fame, and honors will be meaningless. We own nothing in this world. Everything we think we own is in reality only being loaned to us until we die. And on our deathbed at the moment of death, no one but God can save our souls.

The sudden appearance of mushrooms after a summer rain is one of the more impressive spectacles of the plant world.

All our sweetest hours fly fastest.

Time is flying never to return.

The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

You do a film for a short time period - you put it all out there and move on.

Good times don't last long sometimes.

When you win the title, you have a great few days, and then it's gone; you're already looking forward to the next season.

Lord knows we've been guilty of getting too excited about a title reign only to see it last one or two fights.

Sooner or later, all magazines end up in the toilet.

How quickly the world plows us under, she thought with a pang. For two generations, maybe three, we lived on. After that, we're nothing more than a name, or—her eye fell on one of Great-Aunt Minerva's chairs standing like a sentry against the wall—a part of the furniture.

It was one of those truths about raising a child that was almost impossible to imagine. The fact that these things would disappear, the body-to-body connection that began that first day in the hospital would one day come to an end.

To be comfortable inside one's sadness is not valueless. This too will pass. All things tend towards transience, mutability. It is in such mindful moments, when everything is both held and released, that revelation comes.