Quotes About Transience

The truth about it is, whether we is rich or poor or somethin in between, this earth ain't no final restin place. So in a way, we is all homeless—just workin our way toward home.

Death is much like an alarm clock except there is never a snooze button to give you just a moment more, before you really have to wake.

Man's life is brief and transitory, Literature endures forever

Don't forget, as busy as you may be, to quickly raise your head and cast a glance at those great silver clouds and that silent blue ocean in which they are swimming...take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day...because this day will never, ever come again! This day is a gift to you like a rose in full bloom, lying at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up and press it to your lips.

Take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day, because this day will never, ever come again! This day is a gift to you like a rose in full bloom, lying at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up and put it to your lips.

La vida es un pequeño espacio de luz entre dos nostalgias: la de lo que aún no has vivido y la de lo que ya no vas a poder vivir. Y el momento justo de la acción es tan confuso, tan resbaladizo y tan efímero que lo desperdicias mirando con aturdimiento alrededor.

The more humans have mastered the world, the more it has taken on the taint of our own mortality. The world no longer seems deathless.

I close my eyes and listen to the roar and clatter of the world as it rushes by. We are rushing too. The wind is whipping past us. We are so brief. A one-day dandelion. A seedpod skittering across the ice. We are a feather falling from the wing of a bird. I don't know why it is given to us to be so mortal and to feel so much. It is a cruel trick, and glorious.

Minute by minute, a day passed.

Our souls are tethered by the love of things that cannot last, Agnes wrote, a note in her pocket. But she had sometimes to think the opposite. Our souls are freed—the only problem was that freedom was an open and a lonely space.

As I feel into a darker sleep, I understood that I had learned something. Now that I knew fear, I also knew that it was not permanent. As powerful as it was, its grip on me would loosen. It would pass.

troubles are as endless as pleasures are brief ...

But maybe it's wrong of me to complain … I'm alive after all … and I lose an enemy or two every day … cancer, apoplexy, gluttony … it's a pleasure the number that pass on! … I'm not hard to please … a name! … another! … there are good things in life …

On ne perd pas grand-chose quand brûle la maison du propriétaire. Il en viendra toujours un autre, si ce n'est pas toujours le même, Allemand ou Français, ou Anglais ou Chinois, pour présenter, n'est-ce pas, sa quittance à l'occasion... En marks ou francs ? Du moment qu'il faut payer...

Pe m?sur? ce r?mâi într-un loc, lucrurile ÅŸi oamenii se degradeaz?, se stric? ÅŸi încep s? put? anume pentru tine.

Soarele având de trecut prin prea multe lucruri, nu-i las? str?zii decât o lumin? tomnatec? însoÅ£it? de regrete ÅŸi nori.

We want to live. THE MANAGER (ironically). For Eternity? THE FATHER No, sir, only for a moment... in you.

Ours is an immutable reality which should make you shudder when you approach us if you are really conscious of the fact that your reality is a mere transitory and fleeting illusion, taking this form today and that tomorrow

As soon as one is born, one starts dying.

What everyone fails to notice, when talking to the other humans, to mothers and lovers and strangers in the streeet, is the one obvious point: 'future corpse, future corpse.

We are candles, I remember thinking, and the wind is rising.

Este trist s? vezi când tân?rul îÈ™i pierde cele mai bune speranÈ›e È™i vise, când din faÈ›a lui se risipeÈ™te v?lul roz, prin care obiÈ™nuia s? priveasc? lucrurile È™i sentimentele oamenilor, chiar dac? r?mîne speranÈ›a c? va schimba vechile greÈ™eli cu altele noi, la fel de trec?toare È™i, de aceea, la fel de pl?cute...

Para que queres tu mais alguns instantes de vida? Para devorar e seres devorado depois? Não estás farto do espetáculo e da luta? Conheces de sobejo tudo o que eu te deparei menos torpe ou menos aflitivo: o alvor do dia, a melancolia da tarde, a quietação da noite, os aspectos da Terra, o sono, enfim, o maior benefício das minhas mãos. Que mais queres tu, sublime idiota?

Nada há definitivo no mundo; nem o infortúnio nem a prosperidade. O que a tua imaginação supõe estar perdido, acha-se apenas transviado ou oculto...