Quotes About Transience

He sat with his back to a rock and felt the warmth of the sun on his face and watched it pool and flare and drain away dragging with it all that pink and rose and crimson sky.

Each leaf he passed he'd never pass again. They rode over his face like veils, already some yellow, their veins like slender bones where the sun shone through them. He had resolved himself to ride on for he could not turn back and the world that day was as lovely as any day that ever was and he was riding to his death.

You catch the snowflake but when you look in your hand you dont have it no more. Maybe you see this dechado. But before you can see it it is gone. If you want to see it you have to see it on its own ground. If you catch it you lose it. And where it goes there is no coming back from. Not even God can bring it back.

This night, thy soul may be required of thee.

The first rule of the world is that everything vanishes forever.

The frailty of everything revealed at last.

All reality is loss and all loss is eternal. There is no other kind. And that reality into which we inquire must first contain ourselves. And what are we? Ten percent biology and ninety percent nightrumor.

Le cose ci sono e poi non ci sono più. Credo che sentirne la mancanza vuol dire sperare che tornino. Ma le cose non tornano

All reality is loss and all loss is eternal. There is no other kind.

There's hard lessons in this world. What's the hardest? I dont know. Maybe it's just that when things are gone they're gone. They aint comin back.

know it. There's hard lessons in this world. What's the hardest? I dont know. Maybe it's just that when things are gone they're gone. They aint comin back.

and he knew that he would not be buried in this valley but in some distant place among strangers

For the world was made new each day and it was only men's clinging to its vanished husks that could make of that world one husk more.

The wolf is made he way the world is made. You cannot touch the world. You cannot hold it in your hand for it is made of breath only.

Nothing's forever. It wasnt the sort of news that a cat likes to hear.

Reality is a fragile thing.

Sometimes, through the window of a car coming the other way, she caught a glimpse if a stranger's face, then it was gone, like a book you open then close at once.

Como é bom deixar uma marca na superfície branca. Fazer um mapa com meus passos mesmo que seja temporário.

The thing is, we are all, in a sense, supper. Walking, talking, breathing suppers, that's what we are. Take you, for instance. YOU are about to be eaten by ME, so that makes you supper. That's obvious. But even a murderous carnivore like myself will be a supper for worms one day. We're all snatching precious moments from the peaceful jaws of time.

I understood how easily and how quickly things could be snatched away.

I had no idea, of course, that of all the feelings of my youth that would pass, it was this one, of an abundance of time so great as to routinely be unfillable, that would vanish with the least ceremony.

I have no idea, of course, that of all the feelings of my youth that would pass, it was this one, of an abundance of time so great as to routinely be unfillable, that would vanish with the least ceremony.

In camine, unii dintre elevi se apucasera deja sa impacheteze, lucru pe care eu il uram – vedeam peretii goi si suprafetele lipsite de obiecte ca pe niste aluzii rauvoitoare la cat de efemer era totul in jur, cat de iluzorie era senzatia pe care o avem ca ne apartine vreodata ceva.

For {she} had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything. And moments followed one another without necessarily belonging to one another.