Quotes About Transitory

all of us were here for a little while, and then we were somewhere else; we were not alive at all; we approached living, but we never achieved it. We are going to die. Everybody was going to die.

and here's a secret for you - everything beautiful is sad...gilded with impermanence...

She knew that pleasure, to be pleasure, must come to an end.

Marion Woodman—the great Jungian analyst and author—says that we come to the mythic Crossroads during "moments in our lives where the unconscious crosses consciousness; where the eternal crosses the transitory; where a higher will demands the surrender of our egos.

The fault in suffering such torment is his, for his heart's boundless capacity to love was given so that he might direct it toward One possessing an infinite undying beauty. By misusing it and spending it on transitory beings, he has done wrong and suffers the punishment for his fault through the pain of separation.

Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.

It was the in-between time, before day leaves and night comes, a time I've never been partial to because of the sadness that lingers in the space between going and coming.

Ask what Time is, it is nothing else but something of eternal duration become finite, measurable and transitory.

Whatever enjoyment I might have had at the time would disappear overnight like snow melting on a warm roof.

What is happiness, after all, but the fleeting, transitory butterfly of an emotion that is impossible to catch and hold for long before it flies away.

La felicità è invece propriamente un lampo istantaneo che chiama il calore fisico da ogni parte del nostro corpo e mentre sale al cervello sparisce. L'infelicità, invece, ha un irraggiamento più tenace nell'assalirci e nel durare, e si mostra in più modi anche analogici.

Truly, he felt like "a cat biting on a urine bubble—all empty delight!

One year, thought Kristin, and she could hardly remember when she had last given Arne a thought. It gave her a fright—maybe she was a loose, vile woman. A year since she had seen him lying on the bier in the death chamber, when she thought she would never be happy again. She whimpered silently in fear at the inconstancy of her own heart and at the transitory nature of all things. Erlend, Erlend—would he forget her? But worse yet was that she might ever forget him.

The happiness which they meant was not a life of rapture, but moments of such, in an existence made up of few and transitory pains, many and various pleasures, with a decided predominance of the active over the passive, and having as the foundation of the whole not to expect more from life than it is capable of bestowing.

The free discussion of daily matters, the delicate delineation of domestic detail, the passing narrative of fugitive occurrences, would seem light and transitory, if it were not broken by the interruption of a terrible earnestness, and relieved by the dark background of a deep and foreboding sadness.

But surely liking the same things for dinner is one of the deepest and most lasting things you could possibly have in common with anyone,' argued Dr. Parnell. 'After all, the emotions of the heart are very transitory, or so I believe; I should think it makes one much happier to be well-fed than well-loved.

É revigorante ser lembrado, de vez em quando, de que, no mundo, não somos mais que partículas que podem ser varridas com a maior facilidade.

Modernity is the transitory, fugitive, contingent, is but one half of art, of which the other half is the eternal and immutable.

Two passing temporarinesses developed feelings for one another. Two puffs of smoke became mutually fond.

A little while, their hunger unfulfilled, The mothlike worlds flit 'round the guttering sun. (Ephemera)

Jetzt aber weiss ich, dass unsere Welt nich bestaendiger ist als eine Woge im Ozean. All unsere Muehen und Triumphe, wie wir sie auch erleben, zerlaufen zu einem Wasserfleck. Genau wie waessrige Tusche auf Papier.

Like socks in a dryer, it had vanished into the ether.

This body is not a home but an inn, and that only briefly.

We may also notice … each feeling … is transitory and impermanent. Eventually, through simple observation, our feelings, while no less vivid, will become less urgent, and will cease to have such a firm hold on our emotions and actions. We will be able to see each feeling as it arises without feeling compelled to act on it.