Quotes About Decay

Idleness would have seemed not only a sign of moral decay, but an affront to the natural order of things.

Wondered often, if I could call that edge to my service, and sheathe it safe again. For I have seen a great many men grow hard in that calling, and their steel decay to dull iron. And I have wondered often, was I master in my soul, or did I become the slave of my own blade?

I have wondered," he said, so low I could scarcely hear him. "Wondered often, if I could call that edge to my service, and sheathe it safe again. For I have seen a great many men grow hard in that calling, and their steel decay to dull iron. And I have wondered often, was I master in my soul, or did I become the slave of my own blade?

We live in an epoch of denudation.

Message Out of the corpse-warm foyer of the sky steps the sun. There it is not the immortals, but rather the fallen, we perceive. And brilliance doesn't trouble itself with decay. Our Godhead, History, has ordered for us a grave from which there is no resurrection.

But in vain I set out to visit the city: forced to remain motionless and always the same, in order to be more easily remembered, Zora has languished, disintegrated, disappeared. The earth has forgotten her.

Clarice, the glorious city, has a tormented history. Several times it decayed, then burgeoned again, always keeping the first Clarice as an unparalleled model of every splendor, compared to which the city's present state can only cause more sighs at every fading of the stars.

With the smell of beer I try to get the smell of death off me. And only the smell of death will get the smell of beer off you, like all the drinkers whose graves I have to dig.

Agilulfo trascina un morto e pensa:"[...]E' vero che chi esiste ci mette sempre anche un qualcosa, una impronta particolare, che a me non riuscirà mai di dare. Ma se il loro segreto è qui, in questo succo di trippe, grazie, ne faccio a meno. Questa valle di corpi nudi che si disgregano non mi fa più ribrezzo del carnaio del genere umano vivente.

and I think of the end of the world which is approaching, or rather, which has been in progress for a long while.

The human race sleepwalked to oblivion, thinking only of the corporate logos on it's shroud.

Life is rather a short walk through eternity. Be they seeds, pups or infants, on the trek all pick up weight, sensitivity and awareness. Then, much before the end of the run, they deteriorate, head, legs and lungs. The tragicomedy of existence: the long walk of slow decay.

Life is rather a short walk through eternity. Be they seeds, pups or infants, on the trek they all pick up weight, sensitivity and awareness. Then, much before the end of the run, they deteriorate, lead, legs and lungs. The tragicomedy of existence: the long walk of slow decay.

Decay is inherent in all things.

Ours isn't a perfect world. It's downtown--a gilded toilet where people defecate in the streets, where untreated crazies run amok, where Business Improvement District dispatchers get stabbed in the back, where residents gleefully attend midnight arson, where cars pin people to walls, where tourists disintegrate in water tanks, where old men get beaten to death outside their apartments.

The door was open; I stepped in. A ghost town with a ghost theater, yet the former grandness still evident, the gold wallpaper peeling, the velvet seats in attendant rows, though ripped and ruined. Why did I cry? Not because it was a wreck, but because I felt the history.

Middle age is youth without its levity, and age without decay.

All the earth is a grave, and nought escapes it; nothing is so perfect that it does not fall and disappear. The rivers, brooks, fountains and waters flow on, and never return to their joyous beginnings; they hasten on to the vast realms of Tlaloc, and the wider they spread between their marges the more rapidly do they mould their own sepulchral urns. That which was yesterday is not to-day; and let not that which is to-day trust to live to-morrow.

Great effort is required to arrest decay and restore vigor. One must exercise proper deliberation, plan carefully before making a move, and be alert in guarding against relapse following a renaissance.

The French, perhaps more than any other nation, cherish the memory of their dead by ornamenting their places of sepulture with the finest flowers, often renewing the garlands and replacing such plants as decay with vigorous and costly ones.

Morality is a venereal disease. Its primary stage is called virtue; its secondary stage, boredom; its tertiary stage, syphilis.

Rotting together for eternity, one flesh at the last after a lifetime's mutual loathing.

The only thing constantly changing is change The living only become dead Your hair falling out Your liver swelled up Your teeth rot your gums and your chin Your ass starts to sag Your balls shrivel up Your cock swallowed up in its sack The only thing constantly changing is change And it's always change on your back.

In this post-Freudian world in which we live, we have put the phobias and neuroses at the center and pushed "normalcy" out to the margin. More and more, we are doing the same for ugliness: enshrining it at the heart of our culture, while beauty is left to atrophy and decay.