Simone de Beauvoir Quotes

The end of all is death and man's life passeth away suddenly as a shadow.

We're all vanishing organisms and disappearing creatures in space and time - that death sentence in space in time that Kafka talked about with such profundity.

Some men spend their whole life furnishing for themselves the things proper to life without realizing that at our birth each of us was poured a mortal brew to drink.

Life is short and we have scarcely begun to live when we are called to die.

We are all under sentence of death, but with a sort of indefinite reprieve.

Remember that life is short and death is long.

Man is like the foam of the sea, that floats upon the surface of the water. When the wind blows, it vanishes, as if it had never been. Thus are our lives blown away by Death.

Life is a bubble in a lake, that glitters for an instant, bursts, and leaves not even a blur on the water; it is the leap of a minnow, which sends a tiny ripple trembling for a few inches.

Even though in the world you are the most learned scholar of the time, Behold the vanishing of this world and this time!

Death, thou art infinite; it is life is little.

Life is short. If you doubt me, ask a butterfly. Their average life span is a mere five to fourteen days.

I thought about all of the things that everyone ever says to each other, and how everyone is going to die, whether it's in a millisecond, or days, or months, or 76.5 years, if you were just born. Everything that's born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they're all on fire, and we're all trapped.

We're only immortal for a limited time.

Lives are mere blips on the canvas of eternity.

The greatest surprise in life to me is the brevity of life.

You're dying every minute, but you won't die yet.

Now I know that our world is no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.

The nature of finite things is to have the seed of their passing-away as their essential being: the hour of their birth is the hour of their death.

Life has a very simple plot: first you're here and then you're not.

There is nothing certain in a man's life but that he must lose it.

You only live a short time... and you are dead a long time.

Life is much shorter than I imagined it to be.