Quotes About Decay

I try to oppose the interest I take in her, I imagine her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her lips in a high state of putrefaction. No help for it: the indefinable element she releases persists. It is in such moments that one understands why life has managed to sustain itself, in spite of Knowledge.

Ona duyduÄŸum ilgiye kar?? koymaya çal???yorum, gözlerinin, yanaklar?n?n, burnunun, dudaklar?n?n tamamen çürüyüp kokmuÅŸ halini gözümün önüne getiriyorum. Hiçbir ÅŸey deÄŸiÅŸmiyor: uyand?rd??? tan?mlanamaz ÅŸey olduÄŸu gibi duruyor. Bu tür anlarda anl?yor insan Bilmeye raÄŸmen hayat?n nas?l devam edebildiÄŸini.

L'Occident : une pourriture qui sent bon, un cadavre parfumé.

Time is a random thing. It is the thing that makes us older. Humans use it to organize the world. They have invented a system to try to make order from randomness. The other humans, all of them but me, live their lives by hours and minutes and days and seconds, but those things are nothing. The universe would laugh at our attempts to organize it, if it could be bothered to notice them. Time is the thing that makes our bodies shrivel and decay. That is why people are scared of it.

I began to count the pools, each a flare of turquoise light lost behind the high walls of the villas with their screens of cycads and bougainvillaea. Ten thousand years in the future, long after the Côte d'Azur had been abandoned, the first explorers would puzzle over these empty pits, with their eroded frescoes of tritons and stylized fish, inexplicably hauled up the mountainsides like aquatic sundials or the altars of a bizarre religion devised by a race of visionary geometers.

Half of Paris sleeps amidst the putrid exhalations of courts and streets and sewers.

She came to a little wrecked pleasure-steamer, which had become embedded in the mud several summers ago and which no one had bothered to remove. It had been a vulgar, tubby little boat when it used to steam through the water with its handful of holiday-makers, giving shrill whistles at every bend and causing a wash that disturbed the fishermen as they sat peacefully on the banks; but, now it lay sideways in the mud with its gaudy paint all bleached, it was almost beautiful.

Malignant phenomena do not come out of a golden age.

The cracking of old and famous structures is slow and internal, while the facade holds.

Comparing the aftermaths of the Black Death and of World War I, James Westfall Thompson found all the same complaints: economic chaos, social unrest, high prices, profiteering, depraved morals, lack of production, industrial indolence, frenetic gaiety, wild expenditure, luxury, debauchery, social and religious hysteria, greed, avarice, maladministration, decay of manners.

O Fame! A bubble on life's wave, 'Tis tossed about, a worthless thing; The bubble breaks--'tis lost for aye, But leaves on heart a poignant sting.... You cut your name on granit block; As ages come and pass away, Disintegrated is the stone, For all in nature must decay.

An abandoned shoe, a rotten tooth, a snub nose, the cook spitting in the soup of his masters are to love what a battle flag is to nationality.

If a portion of a redwood is rotting, the redwood will send roots into its own form and draw nutrients out of itself as it falls apart. If we had redwood-like biology, if we got a touch of gangrene in our arm, then we could just, you know, extract the nutrients and the moisture out of it until it fell off.

You know, the environment is fragmenting, and the environment is, in many places, absolutely hideous!

Age is not all decay: it is the ripening, the swelling of the fresh life within, that withers and bursts the husk.

Political chaos is connected with the decay of language... one can probably bring about some improvement by starting at the verbal end.

My poems are dead because I'm dead. You're dead. We're all dead. Dead people in a dead world.

You are rotting away. You are falling to pieces. What are you? A bag of filth. Now turn round and look into that mirror again. Do you see that thing facing you? That is the last man. If you are human, that is humanity.

We are the dead . Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone.

You are rotting away, you are falling to pieces. What are you? A bag of filth. Now turn around and look into that mirror again. Do you see that thing facing you? That is the last man. If you are human, that is humanity. Now put your clothes on again.

The rat had never come back, but the bugs had multiplied hideously in the heat. It did not seem to matter. Dirty or clean, the room was paradise.

Çürüyorsun, dedi; parça parça da??l?yorsun. Sen nesin, biliyor musun? Bir pislik torbas?. Åžu sana bakan ÅŸeyi görüyor musun? Son insan bu iÅŸte. Sen insansan, iÅŸte insanl?k bu. Åžimdi giy ÅŸu giysilerini bakal?m.

The reality was decaying, dingy cities, where underfed people shuffled to and fro in leaky shoes, in patched-up nineteenth-century houses

You are thinking.'' he said. ''that my face is old and tired. You are thinking that I talk of power, and yet I am not even able to prevent the decay of my own body. Can you not understand, Winston, that the individual is only a cell? The weariness of the cell is the vigour of the organism.