Quotes About Transience

When I was little, she thought, I wanted nothing except to stop travelling. I wanted time for each new thing, each new feeling, to be held properly in suspension until it could be joined by the next. Given the chance I could easily hold all those beautiful things together. I could be like a box in which they would be held new forever. Instead, everything aged and changed. People too.

Some love is so powerful after all, that it must always include sadness, because encrypted within it is the knowledge that someday it will come to an end.

It makes good times even better when you know they are going to end. Like grilled vegetables are better because some of them are partly soot.

because nothing means as much until it has vanished.

When people have no sense of self, relationships are just temporary distractions from the inner emptiness and fall apart at the first obstacle. My

Ao verme que primeiro roeu as frias carnes do meu cadáver dedico como saudosa lembrança estas memórias póstumas

When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.

I would say, some people are like constellations that only touch the earth for a season.

Of all the mortals on the earth, there are only a few the gods will ever hear of. Consider the practicalities. By the time we learn their names, they are dead. They must be meteors indeed to catch our attention. The merely good: you are dust to us.

some people are like constellations that only touch the earth for a season.

When he died, all things swift and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.

By the time we learn their names, they are dead. They must be meteors indeed to catch our attention. The merely good: you are dust to us.

would miss them when they were gone, I knew. But I would find something else for him. I would help him forget. I would say, some people are like constellations that only touch the earth for a season.

We cannot say. We are men only, a brief flare of the torch.

How paltry are the traces left behind by a life, even one concentrated around those supposed things of permanence called words. We spend our time upon the earth and then disappear, and only one one-thousandth of what we were lasts. We send all those bottles out into the ocean and so few wash up on shore.

Desprecio la popularidad efímera

I am a mushroom On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then.

We lay on the ground and kissed. Perhaps you smile. That we only lay on the ground and kissed. You young people can lend your bodies now, play with them, give them as we could not. But remember that you have paid a price: that of a world rich in mystery and delicate emotion. It is not only species of animal that die out. But whole species of feeling. And if you are wise you will never pity the past for what it did not know. But pity yourself for what it did.

The two of us in that room. No past, no future. All intense deep that-time-only. A feeling that everything must end, the music, ourselves, the moon, everything. That if you get to the heart of things you find sadness for ever and ever, everywhere; but a beautiful silver sadness, like a Christ face.

moments one knows only death will obliterate.

a cloud, it would

We don't always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly-as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth-the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives.

Sic transit gloria mundi.

In the life of a man," wrote Marcus Aurelius, "his time is but a moment . . .