Quotes About Transience

The candle burned the moth: But soon it will vanish in its own fat.

La vela quemó a la polilla: Pero pronto desaparecerá en su propia grasa.

Like vanishing dew, a passing apparition or the sudden flash of lightning -- already gone -- thus should one regard one's self.

Look at the cherry blossoms! Their color and scent fall with them, Are gone forever, Yet mindless The spring comes again.

this boat is and is not when it sinks both disappear

here I am simply trying to get into your head you think you were born you die what a pity

even before trees rocks I was nothing when I'm dead nowhere I'll be nothing all the bad things I do will go up in smoke and so will I if there's nowhere to rest at the end how can I get lost on the way?

He taught that everything is transient, that happiness and youth can never last, that all life is suffering, and we are trapped by an endless cycle of birth and rebirth. If you have a good life, your next life will be better. If you do bad things, you will return next as a beggar, or a beast of burden perhaps. But only by giving up all desire can you escape the endless wheel and reach heaven.

Some people are there for all our life and others are there for just a moment.

Our life is just a bird, which flies into illuminated window, and then flies away, again, into the darkness

Your life is just a bird's flight through a lit room. You pass from infinite darkness into endless night, with only a short time in between.

This being human is a guest-house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out

Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam ... and after a while they will fall to dust and rain; or else we will tear them down with impatient hands; and hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

We were all born of flesh, in a flare of pain. We do not remember the red roots whence we rose, but we know that we rose and walked, that after a while we shall lie down again.

All lovely things will have an ending,All lovely things will fade and die,And youth, that's now so bravely spending,Will beg a penny by and by.

Here today, not there tomorrow, gone leaving no incriminating evidence of my unpopular halfbaked world view. That's a good girl.

We're beings toward death, we're featherless, two-legged, linguistically-conscious creatures born between urine and feces whose body will one day be the culinary delight of terrestrial worms. That's us.

I relished those moments, knowing they would end.

A pebble thrown in a pool may ripple from end to end, but tossed into the sea, it is swallowed by enormity.

We live as emotional transients in a world of isolation. Oh, if I could only borrow back so many wasted moments, but only the arrogant have no regrets; so much is paid for with borrowed time. The infant road, the child's path, in the rising tide of the day, is the aged road the dying path, in the dusk where mortals play.

This is how it will defeat you, by distracting you - it is like life, you can live it or be continually distracted until you are surprised to discover that like smoke from a dead fire, it is gone.

How satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement - no matter how temporary.

It's not unusual, while waiting for somebody to kiss the frog and the real parents to come home, for a foster child to live in ten or twenty different houses.

It's impossible to hold on to anything really. Everything slips away in due time.