Fleeting Pleasure Quotes

Such is the emptiness of human enjoyment that we are always impatient of the present. Attainment is followed by neglect, and possession by disgust.

At the heart of pornography is sexuality haunted by its own disappearance.

Man's pleasure is a short time growing And it falls to the ground As quickly.

Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sell eternity to get a toy? For one grape who will the vine destroy?

Everything is worth precisely as much as a belch, the difference being that a belch is more satisfying.

Doing press is like eating at McDonald's: while it's going on it's vaguely enjoyable - you're seduced by your own vanity and taking yourself rather seriously - but immediately afterwards you feel sick.

Sex means nothing--just the moment of ecstasy, that flares and dies in minutes.

Pleasures seem solid in their pursuit; but are mere clouds in the enjoyment.

Pleasure may come from illusion, but happiness can come only of reality.

Happiness is fleeting - I think that's the main lesson I have learned.

Pleasure is the only thing one should live for, nothing ages like happiness.

Sensual pleasures have the fleeting brilliance of a comet; a happy marriage has the tranquillity of a lovely sunset.

Easter is an ancient festival of rebirth, but it's also an excellent excuse for eating eggs. I really like eggs, of both the chocolate and chicken variety. But the chocolate ones, you must admit, can sustain only a fleeting interest. A sweet, sugary hit - and then it's gone.

Nothing goes sour more easily than the life of pleasure.

The wine of this fleeting world caused your head to ache.

Some relationships aren't meant to be Great Love; they're meant to be like a hot fudge sundae--enjoyable but not something you can acually live on.

The brief span of our poor unhappy life to its final hour Is hastening on; and while we drink and call for gay wreaths, Perfumes, and young girls, old age creeps upon us, unperceived.

A life of mere pleasure! A little while, in the spring-time of the senses, in the sunshine of prosperity, in the jubilee of health, it may seem well enough. But how insufficient, how mean, how terrible when age comes, and sorrow, and death! A life of pleasure! What does it look like when these great changes beat against it--when the realities of eternity stream in? It looks like the fragments of a feast, when the sun shines upon the withered garlands, and the tinsel, and the overturned tables, and the dead lees of wine.

Great sex is wonderful while it's happening, but who remembers great sex they had in 1983?

We lose the peace of years when we hunt after the rapture of moments.

We never taste a perfect joy; our happiest successes are mixed with sadness.

Pleasure dies at the very moment when it charms us most.

The art of living has no history: it does not evolve: the pleasure which vanishes vanishes for good, there is no substitute for it. Other pleasures come, which replace nothing. No progress in pleasures, nothing but mutations.

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

Carnal knowledge is as forgettable as the other kinds.