Dante Alighieri Quotes

The splendors that belong unto the fame of earth are but a wind, that in the same direction lasts not long.

When one's dead, one's dead... This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there'll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that's so very sad?

People will forget me pretty quick.

A man's worth has its season, like fruit.

Everyone once, once only. Just once and no more. And we also once. Never again. But this having been once, although only once, to have been of the earth, seems irrevocable.

Short-lived are both the praiser and the praised, and rememberer and the remembered: and all this in a nook of this part of the world; and not even here do all agree, no, not any one with himself: and the whole earth too is a point.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Nothing lives long Only the earth and mountains

A man's renown is like the hue of grass, Which comes and goes.

Seeking to perpetuate one's name on earth is like writing on the sand by the seashore; to be perpetual it must be written on eternal shores.

All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth, soon slays with parching power.

Every green thing loves to die in bright colors. The vegetable cohorts march glowing out of the year in flaming dresses, as if to leave this earth were a triumph and not a sadness. It is never nature that is sad, but only we, that dare not look back on the past, and that have not its prophecy of the future in our bosoms.

All is ephemeral - fame and the famous as well.

So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again;Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.

We don't like flowers that do not wilt; they must die, and nine she-camel hairs aid memory.

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

There is nothing assured to mortals.

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

Why make plans? The sun might well go out tomorrow.

The whole world's a bottle, And life's but a dram, When the bottle gets empty, It sure ain't worth a damn.

Alas, poor men, their destiny. When all goes well a shadow will overthrow it. If it be unkind one stroke of a wet sponge wipes all the picture out.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

Impermanence is very important, crucial for life. That is why instead of complaining about impermanence you have to say "Long live impermanence!"

If there's another thing that sportswriting teaches you, it is that there are no transcendent themes in life. In all cases things are here and they're over, and that has to be enough.