Quotes About Passage

Campfires and birthday candles don't burn forever.

Time went by, which is what time does, what it is.

It's ahead of us. All I can tell you is, not even courage will help." "Are you reading Alma Mahler again?" "No." Her voice was even and knowing. The underground river. The ceiling lowers, grows wet, the water rushes into darkness. The air becomes damp and icy, the passage narrows. Light is lost here, sound; the current begins to flow beneath great, impassable slabs.

Well, here we are at the passage. Two steps, Jane, take care of the two steps. Oh! no, there is but one. Well, I was persuaded there were two. How very odd! I was convinced there were two, and there is but one.

I think of death, not as a smokestack, but as an opening door.

Religion is about turning untested belief into unshakable truth through the power of institutions and the passage of time.

We fear our passage will be attended with difficulties by reason of the great number of passingers which are one hundred and eighty and upwards in number.

It's almost a rite of passage for the middle-aged, it seems, to invent generational stereotypes for dumping on the young.

In 'Open City,' there is a passage that any reader of Joyce will immediately recognise as a very close, formal analogue of one the stories in 'Dubliners.' That is because a novel is also a literary conversation.

Perhaps with age came a more sedate appreciation of the passage of time.

Time gliding by without our knowledge cheats us, and nothing can be swifter than the years.

Yacen aquí los despojos de un pobre viajero. Murió defendiendo su derecho de paso: Razón le sobraba, estaba en lo justo, lo cierto. Mas tan muerto está como si hubiera errado.

Tempus fugit.

Portals and doorways are common symbolic constructs that represent transformative rites of passage. To look for a literal portal would be like trying to locate the actual Gates of Heaven.

Even when months and days are long, life is short.

Then Elrond and Galadriel rode on; for the Third Age was over and the Days of the Rings were passed and an end was come of the story and song of those times.

I cannot consider death as any thing but a removing from one room to another.

What's happened to my life? These ten-year chunks that are doled out to you in passports are a cruel form of memento mori. How many more new passports will I have? One (1965)? Two (1975)? Such a long way off, 1975, yet your passport life seems all too brief. How long did he live? He managed to renew six passports.

The wagon wound and jolted between the slow and shifting yet constant walls from beyond and above which the wilderness watched them pass, less than inimical now and never to be inimical again since the buck still and forever leaped, the shaking gun-barrels coming constantly and forever steady at last, crashing, and still out of his instant of immortality the buck sprang, forever immortal

You have heard---or anyway you will---people talk about evil times or an evil generation. There are no such things. No epoch of history nor generation of human beings either ever was or is or will be big enough to hold the unvirtue of any given moment, anymore than they could contain all the air of any given moment; all they can do is hope to be as little soiled as possible during their passage through it.

A man's life from birth to death was a series of transition rites which brought him nearer and nearer to his ancestors.

The Tote End itself was demolished in the nineties. Sadly a monstrous IKEA store now stands in it's place. Where once tribes of youths performed their rites of passage and bodily fluids flowed in the name of love, hate and pride; Justin and Kate bicker over which wood flooring they should choose. It fucking kills me.

The Tote End (a large and foreboding terrace at Eastville) itself was demolished in the nineties. Sadly a monstrous Ikea store now stands in it's place. Where once tribes of youths performed their rites of passage and bodily fluids flowed in the name of love, hate and pride; Justin and Kate bicker over which wood flooring they should choose. It fucking kills me.

For the youth, the indignation of most things will just surge as each birthday passes.