Quotes About Transience

Our bodies are perishable, wealth is not at all permanent and death is always nearby. Therefore we must immediately engage in acts of merit.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.

Let death find us as we are building up our matchstick protests against its waves.

As soon as one is born, one starts dying.

Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!

Woe, woe, woe... in a little while we shall all be dead. Therefore let us behave as though we were dead already.

Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible.

We spend our years with sighing; it is a valleyof tears; but death is the funeral of all our sorrows.

Even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little. And every day he looks toward us and muses somewhat to himself whether that day or the next he will draw nigh.

Corpses are more fit to be thrown out than is dung.

We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.

Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses

Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?

When we see our enemies and friends gliding away before us, let us not forget that we are subject to the general law of mortality, and shall soon be where our doom will be fixed forever.

Death is always a constant possibility and probability and of course an inevitability, as well.

I like thinking about the fragility of the human flesh and our bodies - our decay and eventual death.

Because beauty consists of its own passing, just as we reach for it. It's the ephemeral configuration of things in the moment, when you can see both their beauty and their death.

What is born will die, What has been gathered will be dispersed, What has been accumulated will be exhausted, What has been built up will collapse, And what has been high will be brought low.

Ere the dolphin dies Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's breath Are tropic winds before the voice of death.

So you find yourself surrounded by death and horror in the world, and you escape it into lust. But lust has no duration; it leaves you again in the desert.

We must always think about death, because death always thinks about us!

Death does not wait for you to be ready! Death is not considerate or fair. And make no mistake: here, you face death.

Death carries off a man busy picking flowers with an besotted mind, like a great flood does a sleeping village.

In each thing there is an insinuation of death. Stillness, silence, serenity are all apprenticeships.