Quotes About Transience

Supermodernism. the fact that we don't build places just to live in anymore. We build places to go through. To wait in. To be transient [. . .] Supermodern spaces. Places to go through. And now look at this bloody city [Los Angeles]. Two hundred thousand fucking miles of road. Not even a city. A dozen towns stitched together by motorways.

He drifted out the door like a handful of black feathers cast on a winter's breeze.

As much as some people try to deny it, no one gets off this planet alive. Life, in fact, is a terminal disease.

The plain truth is we are going to die. Here I am, a teeny spec surrounded by boundless space and time, arguing with the whole of creation, shaking my fist, sputtering, growing even eloquent at times, and then-poof! I am gone. Swept off once and for all. I think that is very, very funny.

I write your name for the last time in this mist, White breath on the windowpane, And watch it vanish. No, it stays there.

Out of any two thoughts I have, one is devoted to death.

At some point in your life, this statement will be true: tomorrow you will lose everything forever.

theorems, miscellaneous At some point in your life, this statement will be true: Tomorrow you will lose everything forever.

Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.

He was all too aware that no matter how handsome you looked, how full of life and energy you were, underneath your skin was a grinning skeleton.

CLEMENTINE: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon. JOEL: I know. CLEMENTINE: What do we do? JOEL: Enjoy it.

There is something horrible about a flower; This, broken in my hand, is one of those He threw it in just now; it will not live another hour; There are thousands more; you do not miss a rose

...Thus in each flower and simple bell, That in our path untrodden lie, Are sweet remembrancers who tell How fast the winged moments fly. Time will steal on with ceaseless pace, Yet lose we not the fleeting hours, Who still their fairy footsteps trace, As light they dance among the flowers.

L'arbre tombe feuille à feuille : si les hommes contemplaient chaque matin ce qu'ils ont perdu la veille, ils s'apercevraient bien de leur pauvreté.

But the opposite was true. The people in my life were like the Band-Aids that had blown away in the desert wind that first day on the trail. They scattered and then they were gone.

History is a record of destruction. One must always make room for the next ephemeral crystal.

Body puts us on the brittle line between life and death.

Die down, O dismal day! and let me live. And come, blue deeps! magnificently strewn With colored clouds — large, light, and fugitive — By upper winds through pompous motions blown.

How bright and beautiful a comet is as it flies past our planet — provided it does fly past it.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold...

Icicles: fossilized raindrops.

fragility of life, finality of death

She thought about how this summer was small. On the ground, it felt huge, but really, it was just a moment in a series of moments.

Let me tell you something - being thought of as a beautiful woman has spared me nothing in life. No heartache, no trouble. Love has been difficult. Beauty is essentially meaningless and it is always transitory.