Quotes About Transience

The dream dissipated like smoke, and she tried so hard to hold it inside her heart and her memory, but like all dreams, it had never been meant to keep.

Days were ages. Loved bloomed and died in a day.

The sensation felt like spinning too fast on a merry-go-round. Each fraction of a second her eyes focused on a new face in a crowd. Within seconds the face was gone, whisked to a blur, replaced by another face that would just as soon be lost.

Ich legte mich auf den Boden und hörte die Welt ihre Runden drehn im Gleichschritt der Verwesung.

Por felicidad, no alcanzo a entender nada que dure más de un segundo, puede que dos o tres como máximo.

to be old...anonymous as the clouds

Perhaps a stable order can only be established on earth if man always remains accurately conscious that his condition is that of a traveller.

The Moment opens. The moment closes. There is sunlight. There is frost. There is the brief idea of roses amid the patch of weeds.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.

the world is full of signs and wonders that come, and go, and if you are lucky you might see them. Once, twice. Perhaps never again.

Now that Dad was gone I was starting to see how mortality was bound up in things like that cold, arc-lit sky. How the world is full of signs and wonders that come, and go, and if you are lucky you might see them. Once, twice. Perhaps never again.

a torn-paper whiteness behind the sun that speaks of frost to come.

Insofar as a purely transient construction of flesh and blood can remember (or foretell) what it is to be stone, Lucy understood the mountain's wish to listen at the window of a den of gamblers and be warmed by all that free-floating hope and desolation.

purely hated myself because I hadn't bothered to ask his name. People oughtn't to breeze into your life and out again in ten seconds, without leaving even a name behind. As Mr. Dickens once pointed out, we're all on our way to the grave together.

We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished, there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.

The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box.

Life is once, forever.

C'est tellement triste quand le bonheur s'arrête que je suis pas sûr qu'il vaille le coup.

A bubble of air in the blood, a drop of water in the brain, and a man is out of gear, his machine falls to pieces, his thought vanishes, the world disappears from him like a dream at morning. On what a spider thread is hung our individual existence!

Each bud flowers but once and each flower has but its minute of perfect beauty; so, in the garden of the soul each feeling has, as it were, its flowering instant, its one and only moment of expansive grace and radiant kingship.

The years like birds of passage go To that eternal clime, the past; And May's immortal lot is cast Upon their flight o'er all below, Like sunlight on a field of snow, Or some sweet rose-leaf on the blast.

Life is so short, So Fast The Lone Hours Fly, We Ought To Be Together, You and I

When a man dies he kicks the dust.

Alas! how little does the memory of these human inhabitants enhance the beauty of the landscape!