Quotes About Transience

We are all mad sometimes, but it passes. The consequences do not pass.

Human life is short, we don't exist all that much. A pale brief flicker in the dark.

I'm afraid I don't know their address, but there it is, when people are gone they're gone, isn't it.

That love all belonged to the elapsed moment.

Es rarísimo que por un momento estemos aquí y al siguiente hayamos desaparecido. En un par de generaciones, a nadie le importará una mierda. No seremos más que unos gilipollas con ropas graciosas en fotografías descoloridas que un triste descendiente con demasiado tiempo libre saca del aparador para mirar de vez en cuando.

IF YOU FEEL HIGH OR LOW, MIND THAT NOTHING GOOD OR BAD LASTS FOREVER AND TODAY'S THE START OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

Y?llar önce Isaac bir mektubunda Lili adl? sinema filmini izlediÄŸini ve hayali bale sahnesinde aÄŸlad???n? yazm??t?: Beni niye aÄŸlatt???n? biliyorum. Bu, ayn? hayat gibi, insanlar birer birer giderler ve sen onlar? uÄŸurlars?n, ta ki bir gün s?ra sana gelene ve baÅŸkalar? seni uÄŸurlayana kadar. San?r?m burada önemli olan Carpe Diem - günü yakalamak - sonra geçip gitmesine izin vermektir

The only trouble is," said the Sister happily, "that every once in a while you have a very unusual one and you never forget it, but you never have it again either. I had one when I was nine—" Her expression suddenly lost its excitement and she said, "It's a good thing. It teaches you the evanescence of things of the world.

Even eternity doesn't last forever

I try desperately to conquer the transitory nature of my existence, to trap moments before they evenesce, to untangle the confusion of my past. Every instant disappears in a breath and immediately becomes the past; reality is ephemeral and changing, pure longing.

Cada instante desaparece en un soplo y al punto se convierte en pasado, la realidad es efímera y migratoria, pura añoranza

Mediante la fotografía y la palabra escrita intento desesperadamente vencer la condición fugaz de mi existencia, atrapar los momentos antes de que se desvanezcan, despejar la confusión de mi pasado.

a memória é frágil e o trânsito de uma vida é muito breve e sucede tudo tão depressa que não conseguimos ver a relação entre os acontecimentos na ficção do tempo, no presente, no passado e no futuro (...)

Next to the tree was a short, broad-shouldered Asian man in overalls and a straw hat, leaning on a spade. His face was weathered, and in a halting English difficult to follow, he told Alma that this moment was beautiful, but that it would last only a few days before the blooms fell like rain to the ground; much better was the memory of the cherry tree in bloom, because that would last all year, until the following spring.

Non me ne potevo andare perché lontana da questa terra sarei stata come gli alberi che tagliano a Natale, quei poveri pini senza radici che durano un po di tempo e poi muoiono.

Nada es para siempre, hija, sólo la muerte.

Se consideraba un transeúnte en este mundo, un viajero de paso que no se detenía a profundizar en nada excepto el arte, que le ofrecía permanencia.

Truth is short-lived, watered down by torrents of rain.

ese momento era hermoso, pero duraría apenas unos días y pronto las flores caerían como lluvia sobre la tierra; mejor sería el recuerdo del cerezo en flor, porque duraría todo el año, hasta la primavera siguiente. Ese

With photography, you zero in; you put a lot of energy into short moments, and then you go on to the next thing.

When I was racing, I had learned that you can't set stock in public adoration or your press clippings. By the time I was 26, I'd heard crowds of 100,000 scream my name, but a week later they couldn't remember who I was. You're a hero today and a bum tomorrow - hero to zero, I sometimes say.

We are constantly traveling from one place to another, dealing with hotels, time zones, jet lag and all those things.

Traveling is one of few zones of experience where you are not directly plugged into the world around you. You're not part of the society you're passing through.

But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth me Upon my yowthe, and on my jolitee, It tickleth me aboute myn herte roote. Unto this day it dooth myn herte boote That I have had my world as in my tyme. But age, alias! that al wole envenyme, Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith. Lat go, farewel! the devel go therwith! The flour is goon, ther is namoore to telle; The bren, as I best kan, now most I selle.