Tennessee Williams 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.

Life is like a fire. Flames which the passer-by forgets. Ashes which the wind scatters. A man lived.

Everything is about to disappear. You've got to hurry up if you still want to see things.

Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either

All things fade and quickly turn to myth.

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.

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.

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

Even Castles made of sand, fall into the sea, eventually.

The Flower that once has blown forever dies.

I am a forgettable leaf on a tree.

Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- We are as they; Like them we fade away As doth a leaf.

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.

This life of ours...human life is like a flower gloriously blooming in a meadow: along comes a goat, eats it up---no more flower.

To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I They may take the trifle Termed mortality!

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

We write our names in the sand: and then the waves roll in and wash them away.

The seed of mortals broods o'er passing things, and hath nought surer than the smoke-cloud's shadow.

Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart; The end lost in dream, They float past our view, We only watch their glad, early start. Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose; Their widening scope, Their distant employ, We never shall know. And the stream as it flows Sweeps them away, Each one is gone Ever beyond into infinite ways. We alone stay While years hurry on, The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

Nothing endures. Not a tree. Not love. Not even death by violence.