Charles Simmons Quotes

Dreams are, by definition, cursed with short life spans.

This planet Earth, the act of putting a roof over our heads, our flesh and blood existence, it's all very temporary.

What, if as said, man is a bubble.

Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues we write in water.

I am a forgettable leaf on a tree.

I learnt too late that what is most important to us is always most precious at the moment it occurs, and it is precious in its absolute immediacy and not as some vague confirmation of future directions; since the only certain fact, aside from death, is the flimsiness of everything.

Love was generous precisely because it could never be immortal.

Photos are profound because they have such short lives. They are more like fingerprints, dead leaves, rain puddles, or the corpses of flies.

Transience is what is normal. The problem is that we are busily trying to create political structures and cultural expressions that deny that and to deny that is to deny the basic idea of what is human.

That flesh is but the glasse, which holds the dust That measures all our time; which also shall Be crumbled into dust.

We have no participation in Being, because all human nature is ever midway between being born and dying, giving off only a vague image and shadow of itself, and a weak and uncertain opinion. And if you chance to fix your thoughts on trying to grasp its essence, it would be neither more nor less than if your tried to clutch water.

As leaves on the trees, such is the life of man.

There is nothing assured to mortals.

As for success, I don't care for it. It is a fragile thing.

Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know.

Be vigilant, for nothing one achieves lasts forever.

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.

What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough; for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

At my age flowers scare me.

Life lasts but a few scratches of the claw in the sand.

A mass of dust, world's momentary slave, Is man, in state of our old Adam made, Soon born to die, soon flourishing to fade.

If one considered life as a simple loan, one would perhaps be less exacting. We possess actually nothing; everything goes through us.

Property is unstable, and youth perishes in a moment. Life itself is held in the grinning fangs of Death, Yet men delay to obtain release from the world. Alas, the conduct of mankind is surprising.

I maintain music is not here to make us forget about life. It's also here to teach us about life: the fact that everything starts and ends, the fact that every sound is in danger of disappearing, the fact that everything is connected - the fact that we live and we die.