Howard Dietz Quotes

Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.

Nature has given man no better thing than shortness of life.

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.

Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.

I see that all of us who live are nothing but images or insubstantial shadow.

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

We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.

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

We pass through this world but once.

But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.

Man, like a light in the night, is kindled and put out.

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

But it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!

Life is short. It can come and go like a feather in the wind.

Our lives fade behind us before we die.

Letting go all else, cling to the following few truths. Remember that man lives only in the present, in this fleeting instant: all the rest of his life is either past and gone, or not yet revealed. This mortal life is a little thing, lived in a little corner of the earth; and little, too, is the longest fame to come - dependent as it is on a succession of fast-perishing little men who have no knowledge even of their own selves, much less of one long dead and gone.

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

And what is Life? - An hour-glass on the run

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.

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.

Time sneaks up on you like a windshield on a bug.

We're all expendable. We think the world's going to stop when a pope dies, or a king. And then... life goes on.