Quotes About Fading

This is the way the world will end, not with a bang, but a whimper.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73

How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast? Her. Belike for want of rain, which I could well beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

Invece adesso quella stanza, che l'aveva vista diventare adulta, l'avrebbe anche vista avvizzire e sbiadire.

The silver sword across the sea became tarnished and shrank until it was gone and only the old moon remained, bloated and dark, sinking into the mist.

Grief was like that. It gradually faded into a dull ache, until some simple sight or sound or scent hit him like a hammer blow.

It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.

The brightest memory fades faster than the dullest ink.

The House of Lords is like a glass of champagne that has stood for five days

this is what death does to you, it takes and takes, so that all that is left of your memories is a faint tracing of spilled ash.

She fell asleep like a flame being extinguished.

Quiero que mi nombre desaparezca de sus labios.

Time of meeting, time of parting, winds fade and flowers wait. Time drug until we met, even more in parting, Spring winds fade, but the flowers are waiting.

Maybe handling her memory every day for five years had made it fade, like the mortal thing it was.

Funny how the nature of a normal day is the first memory to fade.

Next to it were five potted photographs of the Lisbon girls, pinned with rusty tacks. We didn't remember putting them up, but there they were, dim from time and weather so that all we could make out were phosphorescent outlines of the girls' bodies, each a different glowing letter of an unknown alphabet.

Little by little he'd change; he'd get older; everything he felt now would fade into memory and then into nothing.

...great feeling of enthusiasm..this human component began to fade away, leaving only that supernatural enthusisam which must always be at the root of our perseverance.

Não é difícil morrer em batalha, com a espada em punho, morrer ao sol, no auge do êxtase, no frenesim do combate. Já uma coisa muito diferente é irmo-nos apagando lentamente, à míngua e ao abandono.

The best memories are those which we have forgotten.

Tape the sound of the moon fading at dawn. Give it to your mother to listen to when she's in sorrow.

snowflakes make when they land on water, like the wail of a coyote; the sound reaches a climax and then fades away, all in about one

Our stories are powerful. They teach, they speak, they inspire. They bring about change. But they are also fragile. Their threads are so easily broken by time, by lack of interest, by failure to understand the value that comes of knowing where we have been and who we have been. In this speed-of-light culture, our histories are fading more quickly than ever. Yet when we lose our stories, we lose ourselves. . . .

I am ashes where once I was fire...