La beauté qui parle aux yeux, reprit-elle, n’est que le prestige d’un moment; l’œuil du corps n’est pas toujours celui de l’ me.”(“The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes,” she continued, “is only the...

I sometimes think that never blows so redThe Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;That every Hyacinth the Garden wearsDropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

A little while, their hunger unfulfilled,The mothlike worlds flit ’round the guttering sun.(“Ephemera”)

Los Angeles was the kind of place where everybody was from somewhere else and nobody really droppped anchor. It was a transient place. People drawn by the dream, people running from the nightmare. Twelve million...

The theatre is certainly a place for learning about the brevity of human glory: oh all those wonderful glittering absolutely vanished pantomimes.

When he was young, he told her, each phase of his life, each self he tried on, had seemed reassuringly temporary. Its imperfections didn’t matter, because he could easily replace one moment by the next,...

How different every hour is from the one before!

Time wounds all wholes. To exist in Time is to suffer through an endless exile, a successive severing from those precious few moments of feeling at home in the world.

A shooting star yields very little light.

And these thingsthat 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...

Flowers, cold from the dew,And autumn’s approaching breath,I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids,Which haven’t faded yet.In their nights, fragrantly resinous,Entwined with delightful mystery,They will breathe in her springlikeExtraordinary beauty.But in a whirlwind of sound...

Passing pleasures, like passing clouds, are all we have.

Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.

What will be left of all the fearing and wanting associated with your problematic life situation that every day takes up most of your attention? A dash, one or two inches long, between the date...

Pleasure, like the sparrow, never sits on any one branch too long.

Pleasure, in itself harmless, may become mischievous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that of which every hour brings us nearer to...

You swallow hard when you discover that the old coffee shop is now a chain pharmacy, that the place where you first kissed so-and-so is now a discount electronics retailer, that where you bought this...

I believe in the brief eternity of the rose.

We are here in a wood of little beeches: And the leaves are like black lace Against a sky of nacre. One bough of clear promise Across the moon. It is in this wise that...

As wave is driven by wave And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead, So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows, Always, for ever and new. What was before Is left behind; what never...

Like vanishing dew,a passing apparitionor the sudden flashof lightning — already gone –thus should one regard one’s self.

I sometimes think about old tombs and weedsThat interwreathe among the bones of kingsWith cold and poisonous berry and black flower:Or ruminate upon the skulls of steedsFrailer than shells and on those luminous wings -The...

To know yourself you must know the transience of your self.

Its funny when people recently change their attitude to gain entrance into your heart, which may only ignite your passion to close the door.