Quotes About Transience

Beauty,--the fading rainbow's pride.

The joy in catching butterflies is the joy of capturing - for an instant - utter beauty. The satisfaction of being able to let it go is immense.

Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephemeral

It is in rare and scattered instants that beauty smiles even on her adorers, who are reduced for habitual comfort to remembering her past favours.

Passion, that thing of beauty, that flowering without roots, has to be born, live and die without reason.

Golden lads and girls all must, like chimmney-sweepers, come to dust.

From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.

All dash to and fro in motor cars. Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.

Because we mistake what is impermanent to be permanent

these constructs are constantly changing. Each situation, each thought, each word, each feeling, is just a passing memory.

Because we mistake what is impermanent to be permanent, we suffer.

Each situation, each thought, each word, each feeling, is just a passing memory.

Thoughts, emotions, moods, and memories come and they go, and basic nowness is always here.

Impermanence means that the essence of life is fleeting.

the satisfaction that we get is very short-lived.

This starts with realizing that whatever occurs is neither the beginning nor the end. It is just the same kind of normal human experience that's been happening to everyday people from the beginning of time. Thoughts, emotions, moods, and memories come and they go, and basic nowness is always here.

That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always changing, moment to moment.

We're always looking for a permanent reference point, and it doesn't exist. Everything is impermanent. Everything is always changing—fluid, unfixed, and open. Nothing is pin-down-able the way we'd like it to be.

The path is uncharted. It comes into existence moment by moment and at the same time drops away behind us. It's like riding in a train sitting backwards. We can't see where we're headed, only where we've been.

Gina has always regarded relationships as shifty business: count on nothing, nothing is forever.

I could go at any time now.

But our here and now is just a blip along the continuum.

It won't necessarily last, they know, but they cherish it all the more for that. You only know luck by its opposite.

Days and months are the travellers of eternity. So