Quotes About Transience

Z?o jak ciemno??. Trwa wiecznie. A dobro to rozb?ysk, to nietrwa?e zwyci?stwo nad ciemno?ci?. Dobro jest ?miertelne.

To miasto jest stolic? narodu, które wyparowuje w nico??. O tym te? trzeba powiedzie?. Ale komu? Czy tym, których ju? nie ma albo którzy odchodz? w niepami??? A mo?e tym, co po?eraj? pojedynczych ludzi i ca?e narody?

Su muerte fue como la de un grillo cuando llega el invierno y apaga su último canto».

We think of mortality so little these days... I thought of the stern Victorian determination to keep death in mind, the uncompromising tombstones. Remember, pilgrim, as you pass by, As you are now so once was I: As I am so will you be...

It stunned me. I had never said it before. I knew that I would never say it again, not really; that you only get one shot at in a lifetime. I got mine out of nowhere on a misty autumn evening, under a street lamp shining yellow streaks on the wet pavement, with Rosie's strong pliable fingers woven through mine.

a tiny gemstone, a tiny spark of color slipping between your fingers and through the cracks and gone. A heart the size of a fleck of glitter and vibrating like a hummingbird, seeded with a billion things that would never happen now.

Remember, pilgrim, as you pass by, As you are now so once was I; As I am now so will you be.…

At first I barely recognized it as a person; stripped of substance by the bright sunfall through the leaves, flutter of white T-shirt, confusing gold swirl of hair, white brushstroke face and dense dark smudges of eyes, it had something illusory about it, as if my mind had conjured it from patches of light and shadow and at any moment it might break up and be gone.

She had held her whole life, everything she was, as lightly as a wildflower tucked in her hair, to be tossed away at any second as she took off burning streaks down the highway.

The bitterness of joy lies in the knowledge that it cannot last. Nor should joy last beyond a certain season, for, after that season, even joy would become merely habit.

How massively the mountains stand, while low to the ground the sand blows. The sand blows on and on. And then there are no mountains, none at all, the sand has kissed and whispered them away. And still, the sand blows on.

We are all dust All dying All losing All forgetting We are all leaving all the time

We are all dust.

As I noticed feelings and thoughts appear and disappear, it became increasingly clear that they were just coming and going on their own. . . . There was no sense of a self owning them.

more success tattooing a soap bubble

Oh my son," sighed Ama. "I was talking to the shadows of the pomegranate trees. At least they will be here when we are all gone.

Ukoliko želite da imate dobar život nemojte nikada zaboraviti da ?ete umrijeti.

Realizing that this problem is only temporary, like all things, and it too will pass, gives us more space to find ways to resolve it.

I am not that air, I am the pattern that it assumed, temporarily.

Restoring the air supply cannot re-create what has evanesced.

Milliseconds pass. My death passes before my eyes.

The table there was boisterous, people were winning and laughing, but they weren't truly interacting, not like they did online. In that world you see the same people over and over again, every day, but these people gathered around the table, I knew, would never see each other again. It was too transitory and was ultimately meaningless, the difference between an empty one-night stand and an actual relationship, and I didn't want any part of it.

Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.166

I feel very short-attention span for like accomplishment. It's like 'oh that felt really good' and then it's kind of like an immediate emptiness of I need to make something else - I don't like to dwell on things too long.