Quotes About Vanishing

We would have lost more without our mysterious helper who has melted away like mist.

Nothing but the sigh of embers into ash.

Peut-être les hommes apprendront-ils de leur passé, peut-être disparaitront-ils dans leur quête irraisonnée de pouvoir...

But nothing is lasting in this world. Even joy begins to fade after only one minute. Two minutes later, and it is weaker still, until finally it is swallowed up in our everyday, prosaic state of mind, just as a ripple made by a pebble gradually merges with the smooth surface of the water.

The age of disappearing women. It had been going on forever. Thousands of us vanished, with not a single police officer searching. Not a word from the newspapers. Only our long absences and quiet returns. If we ever returned at all.

He frowned a little, shook his head. "You vanished." He seemed to have to force the words out. "You were here until my hand was just a couple of inches from you. Then, suddenly, you were gone. I couldn't believe it. I just stood there. Then you were back again and on the other side of the room.

Within our bodies disintegration inexorably advances; soon we shall fall sick and die. Our loved ones will leave us, the memory of them will dissolve in the tumult; nothing will remain. Just a few clothes in the wardrobe and someone in a photograph, no longer recognized. The most precious memories will dissipate. Everything will sink into darkness and vanish.

Whenever I set off on any sort of journey I fall off the radar. No one knows where I am.

There is no disputing the accurate, scientific fact that millions of germs are floating, swimming, wriggling everywhere. At the same time, however, if you ignore them completely they lose all possible connection with yourself, and at once become nothing more than vanishing "ghosts of science".

Strange to think of a form of love going extinct, like a carrier pigeon, a rare tortoise, a lilac or apple whose seeds are not to be found anymore, the scent and taste of the thing long lost, never to be touched again.

There he is - gone! as they say in Tyreelin

In this life that sometimes seems to be a vast, ill-defined landscape without signposts, amid all of the vanishing lines and the lost horizons, we hope to find reference points, to draw up some sort of land registry so as to shake the impression that we are navigating by chance. So we forge ties, we try to find stability in chance encounters.

But these memories drifted away like bubbles of soap or fragments of a dream that vanished on waking.

comme si l'hiver de cette année-là séparait les gens les uns des autres, brouillait et effaçait leurs itinéraires, au point de jeter un doute sur leur existence. Et il n'y a aucun recours. Ceux-là même qui sont chargés de vous chercher et de vous retrouver établissent des fiches pour mieux vous faire disparaître ensuite – définitivement.

That is death. A disappearing act.

Nothing lasts, you see, not even the thoughts inside you. And you musn't waste your time looking for them. Once a thing is gone, that is the end of it.

He slipped away slowly, withdrawing from this world by small, imperceptible degrees, and in the end it was as if he were a drop of water evaporating in the sun, shrinking and shrinking until at last he wasn't there anymore.

When words fail you, you dissolve into an image of nothingness. You disappear.

A man walks out from the voice that became me. He has vanished. He has eaten the ripening word that killed you and killed you

It's not just that things vanish--but once they vanish, the memory of them vanishes as well. Dark areas form in the brain, and unless you make a constant effort to summon up the things that are gone, they will quickly be lost to you forever...try to remember it, try to memorise all the beautiful things you are seeing, and in that way they will always be with you, even when you can't see them anymore... I wanted everything to belong to me, for all that beauty to be a part of what I was.

Put something in the wrong place, and even though it is still there—quite possibly smack under your nose—it can vanish for the rest of time.

Nothing recedes into the vanishing point of time's rear-view faster than the truth.

Let's just say I've developed a theory that only the vanished truly leave their mark. And I still don't feel I've sorted it out. Maybe we never do survive our families.

My father died when I was young. We all thought it was rather fortunate at first. It simplified all sorts of things. But over time…well. Let's just say I've developed a theory that only the vanished truly leave their mark. And I still don't feel I've sorted it out. Maybe we never do survive our families.