Amin Maalouf Quotes

Your body is like a dew-drop on the morning grass, your life is as brief as a flash of lightning. Momentary and vain, it is lost in a moment.

A man, when he burns, leaves only a handful of ashes. No woman can hold him. The wind must blow him away.

Life doesn't last; art doesn't last. It doesn't matter.

The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night. The last instance of a thing takes the class with it. Turns out the light and is gone. Look around you. Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all.

Our lives feel like these epochs, but really, we are dust in the wind.

We pass through this world but once.

My work is about my life as an event, and I find myself to be very temporal, transient.

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!

In the end, the wind takes everything, doesn't it? And why not? Why other? If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.

All things fade and quickly turn to myth.

Time wastes too fast : every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen ; the days and hours of it, more precious, my dear Jenny! than the rubies about thy neck, are flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day, never to return more -- every thing presses on -- whilst thou are twisting that lock, -- see! it grows grey ; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make!

Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

Better a life like a falling star, brief bright across the dark, than the long, long waiting of the immortals, loveless and cheerlessly wise.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

In life, and in sports, we all know that nothing lasts forever.

Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!

But the tune ends too soon for us all

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.

Faith, sir, we are here today, and gone tomorrow.