Quotes About Transience

Maybe really, really good things aren't meant to last for too long; maybe that's what makes them all the more sweet, the temporariness of them.

There's no point in me going to mixers and getting attached to people when I'm only going to be there nine months.

Jag ville lägga allt detta på minnet ifall det var sista gången jag var här. Man vet aldrig när det är sista gången man befinner sig på en viss plats. Sista gången man ser en viss person.

It's all so very high school. By that I mean it's ephemeral. Even this pain will be fleeting, finite.

as we are today, that part is done. We'll never be here exactly like this again.

I wonder if this was the way old crushes died, with a whimper, slowly, and then, just like that - gone.

People come in and out of your life. For a time they are your world; they are everything. And then one day they're not. There's no telling how long you will have them near. -Lara Jean Song Covey, P.S. I Still Love You

summer romances really do happen so fast, and then they're over so fast.

Jag undrade om det var så här gamla förälskelser dog. Att luften gick ur dem och sedan ... bara borta.

Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to grow old. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape old age. Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to get sick. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape sickness. Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to die. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape dying. Breathing in, I know that one day I will have to let go of everything and everyone I love. Breathing out, I know there is no way to bring them along.

Works of art often last forever, or nearly so. But exhibitions themselves, especially gallery exhibitions, are like flowers they bloom and then they die, then exist only as memories, or pressed in magazines and books.

The trouble with miracles is, they don't last long.

No treballi tant, senyor secretari, deixi la paperassa i vingui a finestrejar. Guaiti, fixi's en aqueixa noia tan bonica que travessa la plaça. No badi, cregui'm, això dura poc. En un tres i no res, passem d'embrions incerts a calaveres atònites.

Caminando por la playa, sus pies se hunden en la arena blanca, dejando sus huellas marcadas en la humedad; que una ola salada borra para siempre.

We deceive ourselves into thinking life is long, but fire reminds us—it is a flickering. Life is a flickering—and then it is gone. So, we must make the most of it.

We deceive ourselves into thinking life is long, but fire reminds us-it is flickering. Life is a flickering-and then it is gone. So, we must make the most of it. Fire is red. It is yellow. It is blue. It is black as ash, brown as seared lines on timbers. Fire is the pink of flesh, and the gray of smoke that trails. Fire is the all-color that dwells before color, that which comes when one feels a fire will be set...

One is expecting something , and can't say what — yet when one sees it , one knows what one knew , what one knew and couldn't say . It is this way with death . It is in our nature to feel the extent of it when we face it , and to have it fall away the moment we turn

Bleary-eyed, they find places to pull off the road and rest. In Walmart parking lots. On quiet suburban streets. At truck stops, amid the lullaby of idling engines. Then in the early morning hours—before anyone notices—they're back on the highway. Driving on, they're secure in this knowledge: The last free place in America is a parking spot.

Ravic speaking of a butterfly caught in the Louvre) In the morning it would search for flowers and life and the light honey of blossoms and would not find them and later it would fall asleep on millennial marble, weakened by then, until the grip of the delicate, tenacious feet loosened and it fell, a thin leaf of premature autumn.

Ja mis teil südamel ka poleks – ärge pidage seda liiga tähtsaks. Vähe on asju, mis kauaks tähtsaks jäävad.

Beyond this our life did not extend. And of this nothing remains.

What was the use trying to make safe and sure our little life? Sooner or later the great wave must come and sweep all away.

Pasaulis niekada neatrodo toks gražus, kaip t? akimirk?, kaii j? paliekame, kai jums atima laisv?

Not everyone's life is like a house that belongs to him and that he can go on decorating ever more richly with the furniture of his memory. Some people live in hotels, in many hotels. The years close behind them like hotel doors— and the only thing that remains is a little courage and no regrets.