Giovanni Ribisi Quotes

Nothing lasts forever but we always try, and I just can't help but wonder why we let it pass us by

We can see the film stars of yesterday in yesterday’s films, hear the voices of poest and singers on a record, keep the plays of dead dramatists upon our bookshelves, but the actor who holds his audience captive for one brief moment upon a lighted stage vanishes forever when the curtain falls.

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

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

Nothing is forever in the Theatre. Whatever it is, it's here, it flares up, burns hot and then its gone.

Everything changes. The more I try to hold on to the moment, the more it slips through my fingers.

Every moment was a precious thing, having in it the essence of finality.

Nothing comes back. The eye sees for a moment, the ear hears, but look, now it is gone.

Nothing lasts forever. That's the tragedy and the miracle of existence - that everything is impermanent. Everything changes. All we can do is make the best of the time we have. And go down shooting, naturally.

Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand.

The fading light is us, and we are, for a moment so brief (...) beautiful.

Theatre is alive and it is now, and then it's gone.

By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone. . . But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on

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

I knew that it wouldn’t last. It was just a moment, a perfect moment, as time stood still and fleetingly everything fell back into its proper place.

All that remains of that minute is time in all its purity, bone-white time.

And you're sorry that the ephemeral beauty has faded so rapidly, so irretrievably, that it flashed so deceptively and pointlessly before your eyes - you're sorry, for you didn't even have time to fall in love.

Acting is like painting pictures on bathroom tissues. Ten minutes later you throw them away and they are gone.

What came is gone forever every time

Beautiful things never last. That’s why fireflies flash.

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

And you know, these things don't last forever.' I know, Mandy. Nothing does.' That's the spirit.

Time runs and flows and only our death succeeds in catching up with it. Photography is a blade which, in eternity, impales the dazzling moment.

We lose weeks like buttons, like pencils.

Snapshots, moments, mere seconds: as fragile and beautiful and hopeless as a single butterfly, flapping on against a gathering wind.