Quotes About Transience

We have this idea that love is supposed to last forever. But love isn't like that. It's a free-flowing energy that comes and goes when it pleases. Sometimes it stays for life; other times it stays for a second, a day, a month, or a year. So don't fear love when it comes simply because it makes you vulnerable. But don't be surprised when it leaves, either. Just be glad you had the opportunity to experience it.

Our Society, which seems so sturdily built out of concrete and custom, is just a temporary resting place, a hotel our civilization checked into a couple hundred years ago and must one day check out of. It's an inevitability tourists can't help but realize when visiting Mayan ruins, Egyptian ruins, Roman ruins. How long will it be before someone is visiting American ruins?

I didn't wait to see her ship go off, because partings are stupid things and best got over quickly

Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they're gone.

nothing wonderful lasted forever. Joy was as fleeting as a shooting star that crossed the evening sky, ready to blink out at any moment.

One of the great things about a leaf," he said to her, "is that it reminds you to live as well as you can for as long as you can, until it's finally time to let go and allow yourself to drift away with grace.

Yes, I would become upset when you forgot to take out the garbage, but that is not a real argument. That is nothing. It passes like a leaf blown by the window. It is over and done and it is forgotten quickly.

she'd learned long time ago that nothing wonderful lasted forever

When I was 5, some financial things happened, and I moved seven times in a year. We moved from apartment to apartment, sometimes living with friends. My mom would always say, 'Don't get comfortable, because we may not be here long.'

Growing up, I never really felt like anything was my own. I moved a lot, and I never belonged anywhere.

When I was starting out, I saw it as something that was definitely going to end. Every time I came to New York for fashion week or to interview someone, I was so sad going back home because I thought, 'These things don't get to last.' That's sort of the narrative of young success.

Like a long train which stops at every dingy little station, the winter dragged slowly past.

For a few minutes, maybe, life lingers in the tissues of some outlying regions of the body. Then, one by one, the lights go out and there is total blackness. And if some part of the non-entity we called George has indeed been absent at this moment of terminal shock, away out there on the deep water, then it will return to find itself homeless.

We must remember that nothing in this world really belongs to us. At best, we are merely borrowers.

in the blink of an eye my beauty becomes but a feast for worms, and I, a forgotten sigh in a sea of nothingness.

The only certainty is that, eventually, all things shall pass.

Sometimes, if I am not careful, and I stare too long at a flower, it shrivels and dies.

Part of self-awareness is knowing what you're going through even if you can't totally change it. Admit to yourself that your bad mood is hanging a cloud over everything you see, and remind yourself that your moods are not permanent. Your emotions change all the time, and low moods will pass if you allow them to.

There are days that should never be. And then, there are days that, oh, if only they could go on forever!

Nothing is more fleeting than external form, which withers and altars like the flowers of the field at the appearance of autumn

as Boethius says, nothing is more fleeting than external form, which withers and alters like the flowers of the field at the appearance of autumn; and what would be the point of saying today that the abbot Abo had a stern eye and pale cheeks, when by now he and those around him are dust and their bodies have the mortal grayness of dust (only their souls, God grant, shining with a light that will never be extinguished)?

Boethius says, nothing is more fleeting than external form, which withers and alters like the flowers of the field at the appearance of autumn;

Az életöröm abból az érzésbÅ'l fakad, hogy a vigalom meg a búbánat is csak rövid ideig tart, és jaj nekünk, ha megtudjuk, hogy örök boldogság vár reánk.

I shall not indulge in descriptions of persons because, as Boethius says, nothing is more fleeting than the external form, which withers and alters like the flowers of the field at the appearance of autumn; and what would be the point of saying today that the abbot Abo had a stern eye and pale cheeks, when by now he and those around him are dust and their bodies have the mortal grayness of dust?