The generation which lived through the Second World War is disappearing. Post-war generations see Europe's great achievements - liberty, peace and prosperity - as a given.
I like to disappear into a role. I equate the success of it with a feeling of being chemically changed.
It's unsettling, to lose the safety of the familiar, even when what's disrupted is an ordinary routine. When I began this poem, I was grieving for the loss of my old barbershop in Manhattan, and wondering at the strangeness of my new one. I didn't have any idea the poem would break into the underworld, opening a deeper subject: the continuing force of the old griefs routine helps to mediate, and my strange, sheer wonder at my own survival. Where's home now? In the contingent present, in which anything can disappear, and where we're sometimes granted some form of grace.
The dream which is not fed with dream disappears.
In a city this size, every year, hundreds of husbands walk away. Kids leave home. Wives escape. People disappear.
Images, memories, fragmentary shapes and forms all those sensations, visions, half-thoughts that appear and disappear in the wink of an eye, as one sets forth to meet.... The path also disappears as I think of it, as I say it.
Oh man. If I had magic powers... I would hope that I would use them for good. I think I would. But I would do something pretty trivial like making traffic disappear.
I'm just waiting for people to start asking me to make the rain disappear.
What magicians we are, turning darkness into light, transforming invisible atoms into dazzling theater of the world, pulling objects, (people as well as rabbits) out of secret microscopic closets, turning winter into summer, making a palmful of moments disappear through time's trap door. We learned the methods so long ago that they're unconscious, and we've hypnotized ourselves into believing that we're the audience, so I wonder where we served our apprenticeship. Under what master magicians did we learn to form reality so smoothly that we forgot to tell ourselves the secret?
Science, almost from its beginnings, has been truly international in character. National prejudices disappear completely in the scientist's search for truth.
I really believe action will always be there and will never disappear.
Negative feelings can either lead to sinking into oneself and disappearing, or they can make you angry and want to prove that you're worthy to be in the conversation.
Ours is the century of enforced travel of disappearances. The century of people helplessly seeing others, who were close to them, disappear over the horizon.
When I was anorexic it just seemed like I literally wanted to disappear. And now I would like to reappear.
If man limits himself to a satisfied animal existence, and asks from life only what such an existence can give, the higher values of life at once disappear.
Our works decay and disappear but God gentlest works stay looking down on the ruins we toil to rear.
Unfortunately, it happens all too seldom that you really disappear behind a work, that you are no longer audible as an interpreter.
Israel is still the only country in the world against which there is a written document to the effect that it must disappear.
It's great to just disappear, grab a suitcase, switch the answering machine on and just go somewhere else.
If all the insects were to disappear from the earth, within 50 years all life on earth would end. If all human beings disappeared from the earth, within 50 years all forms of life would flourish.
Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears. It ceases to exist, without me.
When you play from the heart, all of a sudden there's no gravity. You don't feel the weight of the world, of bills, of anything. That's why people love it. Your so-called insurmountable problems disappear, and instead of problems you get possibilities.
When digital technology started becoming the norm, you've got 50, 60, 70 years of recordings on tapes that are just deteriorating. Like, a two-inch reel of recording tape won't last forever. It dissolves. It will disappear.
Beautiful things are disappearing every day.
If you were not born in this world, there would be no need to die. To be born in this world is to die, to disappear [laughing].
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