Kim Ki-duk Quotes

Emile Saint-Blague had been a lively, versatile painter in his youth, but he had abused his energy by painting too many pictures; so that in what might have been the ripe period of his art he had nothing left but ideas. A man who has nothing left but ideas may be of great service to his friends, but he is of no use at all to himself. Emile was certainly an inspiration to his friends.

You have to hurry up if you want to see something, everything disappears.

Once, once for all, if you would save your heart from breaking, learn this lesson once for all you must cease, in this world, to believe in the eternity of any creed or form at all. Whatever grows in time is a child of time, and is born and lives, and dies at its appointed day like ourselves.

All suffering goes just as it came. So it is with the glories and tragedies of the world.

No art is possible without a dance with death.

Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death.

Everything transitory is but an image.

It has always happened hitherto that whenever I have begun to feel an attachment to places, persons, or things, of a merely temporary nature, I have been carried away from them. Amen! May I live as a stranger and pilgrim upon the earth. May we be brought to that better country where painful changes are known no more.

For us humans, everything is permanent - until it changes, as we are immortal until we die

Nothing lasts, you see, not even the thoughts inside you. And you musn't waste your time looking for them. Once a thing is gone, that is the end of it.

In this mortal life, nothing is blessed throughout.

Ye come and go incessant; we remain Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past; Be reverent, ye who flit and are forgot, Of faith so nobly realized as this.

Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead.

All things that pass Are wisdom's looking-glass.

All good things pass away.

What is life if not the shadow of a fleeting dream?

All I kept thinking about, over and over, was 'You can't live forever; you can't live forever.

They live ill who expect to live always.

In music I feel most deeply the passing of things.

Life is a sheet of paper white / Whereon each one of us may write / His word or two, and then comes night.

The more a thing tends to be permanent, the more it tends to be lifeless.

Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

And a man's life's no more than to say "One."

Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.