Quotes About Fading

Auf jeden Fall sind Erinnerungen unsichtbar, nicht wahr? Wie wundervoll sie auch sein mögen, sie verschwinden einfach, wenn niemand sie beachtet. Nicht einmal wir selbst sind in der Lage, das wahre Wesen einer Erinnerung zu erfassen. Sie hinterlassen keine Spuren. Es gibt keinen greifbaren Beweis, dass sie wirklich existiert haben.

And no matter how wonderful the memory, it vanishes if you leave it alone, if no one pays attention to it. They leave no trace, no evidence that they ever existed.

The real me is disappearing as we speak. Slowly but surely being sucked into thin air.

Soon there'll be nothing left of me Nothing left to release

In his suicide note, Kurt Cobain wrote, "It's better to burn out than to fade away." He was quoting a Neil Young song about Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols. When I was twenty-four, I interviewed John Lennon. I asked him about this sentiment, one that pervades rock and roll. He took strong, outraged exception to it. "It's better to fade away like an old soldier than to burn out, " he said. "I worship people who survive. I'll take the living and the healthy.

Things happen, people change,' is what Amanda said. For her that covered it. You wanted an explanation, and ending that would assign blame and dish up justice. You considered violence and you considered reconciliation . But what you are left with is a premonition of the way your life will fade behind you, like a book you have read too quickly, leaving a dwindling trail of images and emotions, until all you can remember is a name.

But what you are left with is a premonition of the way your life will fade behind you, like a book you have read too quickly, leaving a dwindling trail of images and emotions, until all you can remember is a name.

Sorrow never heals. We simply take comfort in the fact that our pain seems to fade.

in death, he is not even the ghost he was in life.

Even someone you've inhabited rooms with, and seen naked everyday, seen sitting on the toilet through a half-opened door, can fade out after a while and become an outline.

She saw herself, a fading figure, more than half-way now towards the sunset end, within sight even of the shadowed emptiness that lay beyond the sun's dipping edge. She had lingered over-long, expecting a dream to confirm a dream; she had been oblivious of the truth that the lane went rushing just the same. It was now too late. The speed increased. She had waited, waited for nothing. The seller of dreams was a myth.

Porque la muerte, lo que suprime no es a los seres cercanos y que son nuestra vida misma. Lo que la muerte se lleva para siempre es su recuerdo, la imagen que se va borrando, diluyendo, hasta perderse, y es entonces cuando empezamos nosotros a morir también.

I saw that my image was changing or fading. One of the reasons for taking a break from clubs was to be missed-not forgotten.

It seems to me sometimes that seasons leave us in the way people do, never just gone, but degree by degree, fading like the smell on a loved one's favourite sweater, until the vanishing one day evolves into memory.

I've given up on you...Love fades. Mine has.

I've given up on you. Love fades. Mine has."- Dimitri Belikov (Spirit Bound)

I´ve given up on you. Loves fades. Mine has." - Dimitri

His form grew fainter and fainter, and just before it went altogether, I saw the hint of a smile, that laughing and mischievous smile I'd loved so much.

I've given up on you," he said back, voice also soft. "Love fades. Mine has.

Mother is fading for him, her face receding into shadows, her memory diminishing with each passing day, leaking like sand from a fist.

The night kissed the fading day With a whisper. "I am death, your mother, From me you will get new birth.

Blanche talks about aging, and why should she be considered poor, because physical beauty is transitory and fading and she has such richness of the soul. I think that speech is so beautiful, and so telling and so true.

So now I am alone and adrift having no idea where Stella and Iona have gone, and this gives me a fading feeling I get sometimes when I think Stella has forgotten me for good, like I'm a particle floating invisibly through space and I might float so far away that I stop existing even to myself. How will I get back?

I don't want to fade away, I want to flame away - I want my death to be an attraction, a spectacle, a mystery. A work of art.