Quotes About Transience

The continuous work of our life is to build death.

The dews that wet the tender grass, At the sun's birth, too quickly pass, Nor e'er can hope to see it rise In full perfection to the skies." Shiônagon, who now joined them, and heard the above distich, consoled the nun with the following:— "The dews will not so quickly pass, Nor shall depart before they see The full perfection of the grass, They loved so well in infancy.

New grass, you don't even know where to sprout and grow. How can I, a drop of dew, vanish away in the air leaving you alone?

As Genji mused about the transitory nature of life, intense feelings of weariness and distaste for the world overwhelmed him. How much longer must he go on living in it now that he had been left behind?

Those who linger on and those all too swiftly gone live as dewdrops, all, and it is a foolish thing to set one's heart on their world.

Without an ever-present sense of death life is insipid.

Remember you must die.

If I had my life over again I should form the habit of nightly composing myself to thoughts of death. I would practise, as it were, the remembrance of death. There is no other practise which so intensifies life. Death, when it approaches, ought not to take one by surprise. It should be part of the full expectancy of life. Without an ever-present sense of death life is insipid. You might as well live on the whites of eggs.

Kopar goncalar? henüz vakit varken bugün Anlamazs?n zaman nas?l kanatlan?r, uçar gider O gonca sana gülücükler saçarken bugün Gelince yar?n, sarar?r solar, boynunu büker.

She was safe for another moment, one more moment, and all of life was only moments, after all.

I realized that I travel too much on the day I began tidying an airport as if it were my bedroom.

as a boy stands back from his earlier self mocking it and the light of fireflies blinking against an old fence has become as sad as it is lovely because so many hands are gone by now it is not that we wanted the light to be caught      but reached for that was it

For women to be urged to think continually of beauty's fragility and transience is a way to try to keep us subservient, by maintaining in us a fatalism that has not been part of Western men's thinking since the Renaissance.

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts. The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds. The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

The journey by itself was sufficient; any hope of arriving at a permanent position was outside the boundaries of his knowledge.

Siempre había pensado que las viejas estaciones de ferrocarril eran uno de los pocos lugares mágicos que quedaban en el mundo. En ellas se mezclaban los fantasmas de recuerdos y despedidas con el inicio de cientos de viajes a destinos lejanos, sin retorno. Si algun dia me pierdo, que me busquen en una estación de tren, pensé.

Those times, against all expectations, were turning out to be good times. Then he felt afraid, because he knew they couldn't last long and those stolen drops of happiness and peace would evaporate.

listening to the storm outside as it left the city, knowing that I was going to lose her but also knowing that, for a few minutes, we had belonged to one another, and to nobody else.

El tiempo pasa más aprisa cuanto más vacío está. Las vidas sin significado pasan de largo como trenes que no paran en su estación.

I caressed Cristina in the dark, listening to the storm outside as it left the city, knowing that I was going to lose her but also knowing that, for a few minutes, we had belonged to each other and to nobody else.

La juventud es una novia caprichosa. No sabemos entenderla ni valorarla hasta que se va con otro para no volver jamás…

Me vi entonces a mí mismo a través de sus ojos; apenas un muchacho transparente que creía haber ganado el mundo en una hora y que todavía no sabía que podía perderlo en un minuto.

A juventude é uma namorada caprichosa, que a gente não entende nem valoriza até o dia em que ela vai embora com outro, para nunca mais voltar...

Somos frágiles. Criaturas pasajeras. Cuanto queda de nosotros son nuestras acciones, el bien o el mal que hacemos a nuestros semejantes.