Life is but a day;
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way
From a tree’s summit.
Mots clés life poetry transience
Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.
Paulo CoelhoMots clés loss posessions impermanence transience
No permanence is ours; we are a wave
That flows to fit whatever form it finds
Mots clés permanence transience
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
Within a dream.
Mots clés life poetry transience
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The man smiled at him a sly smile. As if they knew a secret between them, these two. Something of age and youth and their claims and the justice of those claims. And of the claims upon them. The world past, the world to come. Their common transiencies. Above all a knowing deep in the bone that beauty and loss are one.
Cormac McCarthyMots clés transience
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Like vanishing dew,
a passing apparition
or the sudden flash
of lightning -- already gone --
thus should one regard one's self.
Mots clés zen self wind transience old-songs ozymandias
And so castles made of sand slips into the sea, eventually.
Jimi HendrixMots clés time change impermanence transience ephemeral ephemerality inevitability
And these things
that keep alive on departure know that
you praise them; transient,
they look to us, the most transient,
to be their rescue.
They want us to change them completely,
in our invisible hearts,
into -- O endlessly -- us! Whoever,
finally, we may be.
Mots clés things transformation transience
Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy. So shoes are worn and hassocks are sat upon and finally everything is left where it was and the spirit passes on, just as the wind in the orchard picks up the leaves from the ground as if there were no other pleasure in the world but brown leaves, as if it would deck, clothe, flesh itself in flourishes of dusty brown apple leaves, and then drops them all in a heap at the side of the house and goes on.
Marilynne RobinsonMots clés transience
A little while, their hunger unfulfilled,
The mothlike worlds flit 'round the guttering sun.
("Ephemera")
Mots clés history time apocalypse armageddon transience
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