Quotes About Transience

Desear no es querer. Se desea lo que se sabe que no dura. Se quiere lo que se sabe que es eterno

She walked on and on till she melted out of the picture - like - like a shadow jumping over a candle ...

I helped Jiko to her feet and we walked back to the bus stop together, holding hands again. I was still thinking about what she said about waves, and it made me sad because I knew that her little wave was not going to last and soon she would join the sea again, and even though I know you can't hold on to water , still I gripped her fingers a little more tightly to keep her from leaking away.

I don't believe I exist, and soon I won't. I am a time being about to expire.

I was thinking about what she aid about waves, and it made me sad because I knew that her little wave was not going to last and soon she would join the sea again, and even though I know you can't hold on to water, I still gripped her fingers a little more tightly to keep her from leaking away

nothing in the world is solid or real, because nothing is permanent, and all things---including trees and animals and pebbles and mountains and rivers and me and you---are just flowing through for the time being.

Death is certain. Life is always changing, like a puff of wind in the air, or a wave in the sea, or even a thought in the mind.

There's nothing like realizing that you don't have much time left to stimulate your appreciation for the moments of your life.

Life is evanescent, but left to itself it rarely fails to offer some consolation.

Great is the Matter of Birth and Death. Life is transient. Time will not wait. Wake up! Wake up! Do not waste a moment!

I was still thinking about what she said about waves, and it made me sad because I knew that her little wave was not going to last and soon she would join the sea again, and even though I know you cannot hold on to water, still I gripped her fingers a little more tightly to keep her from leaking away.

I have to hurry up and write them down before I forget. I have a pretty good memory, but memories are time beings, too, like cherry blossoms or ginkgo leaves; for a while they are beautiful, and then they fade and die.

I whispered Now! ... Now! ... Now! ... over and over, faster and faster, into the wind as the world whipped by, trying to catch the moment when the word was what it is: when now became NOW. But in the time it takes to say now, now is already over. It's already then.

When everything you think you own—your belongings, your life—can be swept away in an instant, you must ask yourself, What is real?

For the time being, standing on the tallest mountaintop, For the time being, moving on the deepest ocean floor, For the time being, a demon with three heads and eight arms, For the time being, the golden sixteen-foot body of a buddha, For the time being, a monk's staff or a master's fly- swatter, For the time being, a pillar or a lantern, For the time being, any Dick or Jane, For the time being, the entire earth and the boundless sky.

whispered Now! . . . Now! . . . Now! . . . over and over, faster and faster, into the wind as the world whipped by, trying to catch the moment when the word was what it is: when now became NOW. But in the time it takes to say now, now is already over. It's already then.

Shiki fu i ku, ku fu i shiki.70

We're in a transient state - why hate our present selves? Let's save the energy for when we are eighty, when we are perhaps above, or beyond, changing. Then we can hate, if hate we must.

He fears all worldly setback for there is nothing eternal in him.

And doesn't everything die and return; the grass, the trees, the fields? Why not us?

Because Harry knew there was no forever. Not for them. Such things were impossible. There was only today, there was only tonight. And he'd do well not to forget it.

She watched him recede into the past as he stood...each successive moment of him passing before her eyes and being lost forever.

Nothing is forever, he thought beyond closed eyelids somewhere over Asia Minor. Maybe unhappiness is the continuum through which a human life moves, and joy just a series of blips, of islands in the stream. Or if not unhappiness, then at least melancholy.

The light of the fire dying in the water like a dream being forgotten.