Vanishing Quotes

“I'm bereft of poetry
on this planet, from where
the beauties of Creation
are vanishing away
furiously.”
― Suman Pokhrel

“It had struck me that the world was full of holes, holes which you could fall into, never to be seen again. I couldn't understand the difference between disappearance and death. Both seemed the same to me, both left holes. Holes in your heart holes in your life.”
― Sally Gardner, Maggot Moon

“We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory.”
― Henri Cartier-Bresson

“The only comfort I found was in planning to disappear.”
― Aspen Matis, Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir

“They had no curiousity about him at all. As if they knew all that they needed to know. They stood and watched him pass and watched him vanish upon that landscape solely because he was passing. Solely because he would vanish.”
― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

“The abyss of the past into which the world is falling. Everything vanishing as if it had never been. We would hardly wish to know ourselves again as we once were and yet we mourn the days.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Passenger

“After school the very next day, El Rey's mobile home was gone. I laid in bed and wondered what happens to people when they go, if they become like shadows, if they fade away when they disappear from your life. The only thing I could see was the broken picket fence. The only sound I could hear was the cry of birds being killed in the night.”
― Joe Meno, Tender as Hellfire

“I’ve reached the vanishing point
without you.
Here my heartache begins with your pain
trying to find an unborn start
in this fatal disappearance

From the poem ‘Me with the Vanishing Point”
― Munia Khan, To Evince the Blue

“Stop and consider! life is but a day;
A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way
From a tree's summit; a poor Indian's sleep
While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep
Of Montmorenci. Why so sad a moan?
Life is the rose's hope while yet unblown;
The reading of an ever-changing tale;
The light uplifting of a maiden's veil;
A pigeon tumbling in clear summer air;
A laughing schoolboy, without grief or care,
Riding the springy branches of an elm.”
― John Keats, Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne

“Yeah, I want to retreat from the world and ponder in solitude. At the same time I wouldn’t mind at least a couple of people pondering my whereabouts.”
― Peter Orner, Am I Alone Here?: Notes on Living to Read and Reading to Live

“Was the world sluggishly vanishing, or was I fading away?”
― Misbah Khan, Blanks & Blues

“If you wanted to disappear, this would be the place to do it. Outside the city limits, the nights are dark and old, and people who vanish are never seen again.”
― Cassandra Yorke, Mary, Everything

“One final glance back at the hotel. Philias Switchmoat the Third, stepping from the curb and in to a puddle. Disappeared.”
― Stephen J. Day, Horizontal - The Recumbent Adventures of Philias Switchmoat

“Maybe he was worried that I would get thinner and thinner, until I became as unfindable as my mother, and I felt a stab of compassion for him, imagining my father alone in this house with the white shadows of his two invisible women.”
― Laura Kasischke, White Bird in a Blizzard

“I've made countless variations on this recipe. Chai-infused shortbread diamonds. Rosewater shortbread squares. Cocoa shortbread sandwiches spliced with Nutella. But tonight, in honor of Grandma Damson, I make hers, from memory.
In a sense, I fail. No ghosts materialize in the kitchen, not Grandma Damson, not Nonna, not anyone.
But out of the mess I make a dozen ideal shortbread wedges, perfect in shape, size and flavor. Warm and delicate. With a glass of cold milk, they are delicious. When shortbread melts on your tongue, you feel the roundness of the butter and the kiss of the sugar and then they vanish. Then you eat another, to feel it again, to get at that moment of vanishing. I eat myself sick on them.”
― Jael McHenry, The Kitchen Daughter

“I place my finger on her forehead and say, "vanish", but it is she who will stay; I am the one who is vanishing.”
― Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler’s Wife

“Only the things we are still holding on to can vanish into the past. If we no longer have it, it can’t be lost that way. Can’t vanish anywhere. Nonexistent, it is nonetheless unable, forever, to go.”
― Hiromi Kawakami, Manazuru

“She had fashioned herself into an escape artist, a magician whose only trick was vanishing. Permanence was dangerous. It had always felt like a trap.”
― Ava Reid, A Study in Drowning