Quotes About Impermanence

In reality nobody can grasp anything permanently in life. Absolutely nothing. Somethings may stay in memory for a while but eventually that too fades away.

And yet for all that I still had never gotten used to the breathtaking impermanence of things.

antivuelco. Como suponía, Banks no tardó

Nothing lasts, not forever. Not laughter, not lust, not even life itself. Not forever. Which is why we make the most of what we have.

Nothing lasts, not forever. Not laughter, not lust, not even life itself. Not forever. Which is why we make the most of what we have. Why

Seas move away, why not lovers? The harbours of Ephesus, the rivers of Heraclitus disappear and are replaced by estuaries of silt. The wife of Candaules becomes the wife of Gyges. Libraries burn.

Nothing lasts. Not even literary or artistic fame protects worldly things around us.

For the heavens shall vanish away like smoke and the earth shall wax old like a garment. And they that dwell therein shall die in like manner. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worms shall eat them like wool.

during the night, in the no-longer-damp path of its stream. Nothing lasts. Not even literary or artistic fame protects worldly

The more we wait, the more everything and everyone looks like a grain of sand escaping between our fingers before vanishing into the wind.

The on­ly thing I know is ev­ery­thing you love will die.

Jude remembered this pain. Every woman had felt some version of it: the end of first love. It was when you learned, for good and always, that love could be impermanent.

Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day. Love's pleasure drives his love away, The painter's brush consumes his dreams.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

It is an arresting thought that all that makes you lovely is deceased. Where body meets air, we are all cadavers. These outer skin cells are replaced every month. We shed skin copiously, almost carelessly: some twenty-five thousand flakes a minute, over a million pieces every hour. Run a finger along a dusty shelf, and you are in large part clearing a path through fragments of your former self. Silently and remorselessly we turn to dust.

Where body meets air, we are all cadavers.

All that is made perfect by progress perishes also by progress.

Nothing stays or holds or keeps where there is growth, he somehow perceived vaguely but truly. Great Caesar dead and turned to clay stopped no hole to keep the wind away. Dead Caesar was nothing but a tiresome bit of print in a book that schoolboys study for awhile and then forget. The Ambersons had passed, and the new people would pass, and the new people that came after them, and then the next new ones, and the next—and the next—

Everything is always changing. There is a cause-and-effect lawfulness that governs all unfolding experience. What I do matters, but I am not in charge. Suffering results from struggling with what is beyond my control. [pp. 27-28]

the delicacy, the impermanence, the emptiness of mind states. Just like the weather, they blow in and out. Good mood. Bad mood. Tranquil mood. Frazzled mood [p. 105].

The box is only temporary.

I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want.

Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die.

Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die.