A Quote by Thomas a Kempis

So passes away the glory of this world. ('Sic transit gloria mundi.') — © Thomas a Kempis
So passes away the glory of this world. ('Sic transit gloria mundi.')
Hodie mihi cras tibi, said the inscription. Sic transit gloria mundi. My turn today, yours tomorrow. And thus passes away the glory of the world.
If we are still here to witness the destruction of our planet some five billion years or more hence, then we will have achieved something so unprecedented in the history of life that we should be willing to sing our swansong with joy - Sic Transit Gloria Mundi.
How quickly passes away the glory of this world.
Oh, how quickly the world's glory passes away.
Oh, how swiftly the glory of the world passes away!
O how quickly passes away the glory of the earth.
'Gloria, Gloria!' they cry, for their song embraces all that the Lord has begun this day: Glory to God in the highest of heavens! And peace to the people with whom he is pleased! And who are these people? With whom does the good Lord choose to take his pleasure? The shepherds. The plain and nameless - whose every name the Lord knows well. You. And me.
Oh how swiftly the glory of the world passes away! If only the lives of these men had been as admirable as their learning, their study and reading would have been to good purpose! But how many in this world care little for the service of God, and perish in their vain learning. Because they choose to be great rather than humble, they perish in their own conceit.
The pain others give passes away in their later kindness, but that of our own blunders, especially when they hurt our vanity, never passes away
Sometimes this world comes between us and what we love. But if we are patient, when this world passes away, there will be no more separation.
You are an instrument of God. Don't leave the instrument sitting in its case, my son. Play! Leave no part of your instrument unexplored. Why settle for 'Three Blind Mice' when you can can play the 'Gloria'? No, not Bach's 'Gloria.' Yours! Your 'Gloria' lives within you. The greatest sin is not finding it, ignoring what God made possible in you.
There is nothing in the whole world which abides. All things are in a state of ebb and flow, and every shadow passes away. Even time itself, like a river, is constantly gliding away .
If I wanted to order a ring for myself, the inscription I should choose would be: "Nothing passes away." I believe that nothing passes away without leaving a trace, and that every step we take, however small, has significance for our present and our future existence.
The glory of riches and of beauty is frail and transitory; virtue remains bright and eternal. [Lat., Divitarum et formae gloria fluxa atque fragilis; virtus clara aeternaque habetur.]
Intimacy is not trapped within words. It passes through words. It passes. The truth is that intimates leave the room. Doors close. Faces move away from the window. Time passes. Voices recede into the dark. Death finally quiets the voice. And there is no way to deny it. No way to stand in the crowd, uttering one's family language.
As time passes by and you look at portraits, the people come back to you like a silent echo. A photograph is a vestige of a face, a face in transit. Photography has something to do with death. It's a trace.
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