Quotes About Evanescence

All things fade and quickly turn to myth.

Women are hard to keep track of, most of them. They slip into other names, and sink without a trace.

He'd had a dog once, in that way he'd had everything in his childhood, ordinary but a lot less lasting.

Everything is impermanent: happiness, sorrow, a great meal, a powerful empire, what we're feeling, the people around us, ourselves.

eventually, everything goes away.

Life's like a butterfly. One moment, it's there, fluttering about. The next, it's gone, no trace in sight.

I am gone tomorrow. And there and gone again by the time you read this.

Readers and writers are united in their need for solitude, in their pursuit of substance in a time of ever-increasing evanescence: in their reach inward, via print, for a way out of loneliness.

Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.

They shall arrive in a murmurAnd shall disappear into fog and earth

You do a film for a short time period - you put it all out there and move on.

She often wished she was pale enough to disappear altogether.

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

Y me sentí un transeúnte más que un día sería un transeúnte menos

I'm like that, nothing sticks.

It only underscores the feeling that everything from our past has vanished.

Is there a relative value of beauty? Is evanescence - fleetingness - a necessary element of the thing that most moves us? A shooting star dazzles more than the sun. A child captivates like an elf, but grows into grossness, an ogre, a harpy. A flower splays itself into color - the lilies of the field! - more treasured than any painting of a flower. But of all these things, women's grace, shooting stars, flowers, and paintings, only a painting endures.

Man's pleasure is a short time growing And it falls to the ground As quickly.

That's the thing about life; everything feels so permanent, but you can disappear in an instant.

I love Evanescence. I think it's quite comforting to really make nostalgic early 2000s inspired music for me, personally. I think it just reminds me of being a kid again. And that was a nice time.

To appear for a little time and then vanish away, is the outward biography of all men, a circle of smoke that breaks, a bubble on the stream that bursts, a spark put out by a breath.

Haints, Hot Steams, incantations, secret signs had vanished with our years as mist with sunrise.

Precipitate as weather, she appeared from somewhere, then evaporated, leaving only memory.

Even so, everything was ever so slightly off, as if little by little the tracing paper had slipped irretrievably from the lines of summers past.