Quotes About Transience

Well, we were born to die.

A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

CAPULET: ...Well, we were born to die.

Swift as shadow, short as any dream

Had I but died an hour before this chance I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant There's nothing serious in mortality.             All is but toys, renown and grace is dead, The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

O that I were a mockery king of snow Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke To melt myself away in water drops!

We strut and fret our hour upon the stage and then are no more.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong: To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.

Beauty is all very well at first sight; but whoever looks at it when it has been in the house three days?

The sands are number'd that make up my life.

There's nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead. The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

Ciò che risplende fa così in fretta a svanire.

?ycie jest jedynie przelotnym cieniem; ?a?osnym aktorem, co przez godzin? puszy si? i miota na scenie, po czym znika; opowie?ci? idioty, pe?n? wrzasku i w?ciek?o?ci, a nie znacz?c? nic.

She thought of death and of her own in particular: the death of her body and the death of her face.

I'm afraid they would droop. See, they're drooping already. Bluebells are like that.

There are no permanent things, only fleeting moments of warmth and companionship, precious stationary seconds in a flicker of troubled days. The

There are no permanent things, only fleeting moments of warmth and companionship, precious stationary seconds in a flicker of troubled days.

Ross thought, There are no permanent things, only fleeting moments of warmth and companionship, precious stationary seconds in a flicker of troubled days.

He was a cut flower in a vase; fair to see, yet bound to die, and to die very soon if the water was not constantly renewed.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.   Even

A che serve qui chiedersi sotto quante stelle nasce l'uomo, e sotto quante dopo un attimo muore.

Czemu ty si?, z?a godzino, z niepotrzebnym mieszasz l?kiem? Jeste? - a wi?c musisz min??. Miniesz - a wi?c to jest pi?kne