Quotes About Decay

Some people have no more burden than an avocado going bad.

Yes, except that nothing sleeps inside but furniture, and that's probably gone to pieces by now. Time gets into anything; yes, indeed it does; and weather helps it.

The world is afflicted with death and decay, therefore the wise do not grieve, knowing the terms of the world, says an old Buddhist teaching. In other words: Get used to it.

Table salt hardens here. Books mildew. Diaries flip open. Private Property: Please Turn Around.

Where the trees thicken into a wood, the fragrance of the wet earth and rotting leaves kicked up by the horses' hoofs fills my soul with delight. I particularly love that smell, -- it brings before me the entire benevolence of Nature, for ever working death and decay, so piteous in themselves, into the means of fresh life and glory, and sending up sweet odours as she works.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,The vapors weep their burthen to the ground,Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,And after many a summer dies the swan.

It is the little rift within the lute,That by and by will make the music mute,And ever widening slowly silence all.

Without adventure, civilization is in full decay.

All the other houses have been pulled out of the street like bad teeth.

I create death, and time.

It has been estimated that one-third of the 139 square miles designated "Detroit" is now vacant-land-prairie. That's crime.

I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.

El enemigo es aquel que, desde el interior, destruye lo que merece la pena. Es el que te muestra la decrepitud contenida en cada realidad. Es aquel que saca a la luz tu bajeza y la de tus amigos. Es aquel que, en un día perfecto, encontrará una excelente razón para que te tortures. Es aquel que te hará sentir asco de ti mismo. Es aquel que, cuando entreveas el rostro celestial de una desconocida, te revelará la muerte contenida en tanta belleza.

Tra la vita - bocche di carpe che deglutiscono - e la morte - vegetali in lenta putrefazione - tu che cosa scegli? Che cosa ti dà meno voglia di vomitare?

They all in general had putrid gums, the spots and lassitude, with weakness of their knees.

Miami, in many ways, is a quintessentially American city. The juxtaposition of showy wealth with dire pennilessness, the tussle of glitz and decay doesn't come any more marked than here.

The road system that we've come to depend on, the road system that we built our wealth on and our power on, is falling apart.

I don't fear that a man will wear out as quickly as he will rust out.

Corruption never has been compulsory.

LOS ANGELES IS a busted jukebox in a forgotten bar at the ass end of the high desert. The city only exists between the pops, skips, and scratches of the old 45s.

Wherever we are, it isn't like the Tenebrae. No desert monotony. No spiked mountains. It's more like forest land after a nuke attack. Bare, mossy skeleton-like trees and tough tangles of gray and green weeds sprouting on low rolling hills. Pretty much everything but the weeds seems dead here.

We're in front of a run-down little motel, the kind you see along Route 66, but not the quaint kind you stay in. It's more like the ones where you check in for an hour and come out with crabs or what in gentler times they called a "social malady.

Soft cheese is a reminder that all cheese is just milk that crawled into a ditch to die, then some lunatic came along, spread the corpse on a saltine, and invented hors d'oeuvres.

The closer I get, the shittier Abbot looks. His hair is long and he seems weak and frail. He was never a big guy and it looks like he lost twenty pounds and his surgical mask droops on his face. With his bony cheekbones, when he smiles he looks like a well-dressed corpse.