Ron Pope Quotes

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

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Look round and round upon this bare bleak plain, and see even here, upon a winter's day, how beautiful the shadows are! Alas! It is the nature of their kind to be so. The loveliest things in life... are but shadows; and they come and go, and change and fade away, as rapidly as these.

Life was so short; so many beautiful things slipped away.

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

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

Beautiful things grow to a certain height and then they fail and fade off, breathing out memories as they decay.

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.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

Beauty's of a fading nature. Has a season and is gone!

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

How passionately we love everything that cannot last: the dazzling crystallory of winter, the spring in bloom, the fragile flight of butterflies, crimson sunsets, a kiss, and life.

Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

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

To me, beauty and sadness are very closely linked. Truly beautiful things make me sad because I know they are going to fade. When I see a beautiful 20-year-old boy or girl-and they are breathtaking-I am filled with a kind of sadness. But maybe they are beautiful because we know they are not permanent and they are in a kind of transition.

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

Everything, no matter how beautiful, is only with us for awhile.

I cried over beautiful things, knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

A little while the rose, And after that the thorn; An hour of dewy morn, And then the glamour goes. Ah, love in beauty born, A little while the rose!

The vulnerability of precious things is beautiful because vulnerability is a mark of existence. The destruction of Troy. The fall of the petals from fruit trees in blossom. To know that what is most precious is not rooted in existence - that is beautiful.

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!