Things of this world are in so constant a flux, that nothing remains long in the same state.
Nothing endures but change. There is nothing permanent except change. All is flux, nothing stays still.
Design in art, is a recognition of the relation between various things, various elements in the creative flux. You can't invent a design. You recognize it, in the fourth dimension. That is, with your blood and your bones, as well as with your eyes.
Existence is no more than the precarious attainment of relevance in an intensely mobile flux of past, present, and future.
The constant flux and caprice of mental events do not admit of the establishment of stable experimental conditions.
We are at war between consciousness and nature, between the desire for permanence and the fact of flux. It is ourself against ourselves.
Our affections as well as our bodies are in perpetual flux.
Buddhism holds that everything is in constant flux. Thus the question is whether we are to accept change passively and be swept away by it or whether we are to take the lead and create positive changes on our own initiative. While conservatism and self-protection might be likened to winter, night, and death, the spirit of pioneering and attempting to realize ideals evokes images of spring, morning, and birth.
Make your mold. The best flux in the world will not make a usable shape unless you have a mold to pour it in.
The moral world is as little exempt as the physical world from the law of ceaseless change, of perpetual flux.
There is an aura of changelessness to sport. There is the flux of competition, but it occurs within the ordering confinement of clear rules.
That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
While conservatism and self-protection might be likened to winter, night, and death, the spirit of pioneering and attempting to realize ideals evokes images of spring, morning, and birth.
The world is continuous flux and is impermanent.
The great and amorous sky curved over the earth, and lay upon her as a pure lover. The rain, the humid flux descending from heaven for both man and animal, for both thick and strong, germinated the wheat, swelled the furrows with fecund mud and brought forth the buds in the orchards. And it is I who empowered these moist espousals, I the great Aphrodite.
All things are in flux; the flux is subject to a unifying measure or rational principle. This principle (logos, the hidden harmony behind all change) bound opposites together in a unified tension, which is like that of a lyre, where a stable harmonious sound emerges from the tension of the opposing forces that arise from the bow bound together by the string.
Keep in mind how fast things pass by and are gone - those that are now, and those to come. Existence flows past us like a river; the "what" is in constant flux, the "why" has a thousand variations. Nothing is stable, not even what's right here. The infinity of past and future gapes before us - a chasm whose depths we cannot see.
If things do not exist as fixed, independent entities, then how can they die? Our notion of death as the sudden expiration of that which was once so real starts to unwind. If things do not exist in their own right and are flickering rather than static, then we can no longer fear their ultimate demise. We may fear their instability, or their emptiness, but the looming threat of death starts to seem absurd. Things are constantly dying, we find. Or rather, they are constantly in flux, arising and passing away with each moment of consciousness.
I try and remind our viewers that climate is always in a state of flux and yes, the world has warmed over the last 25 years but claiming that Katrina is a product of global warming is absurd. We have had much stronger hurricanes hit the United States in the past, the Labor Day or Keys hurricane of 1935 and Camille in 1969 to name just two. There is much more development now on our shores.
There is a constant ebb and flow in art historical reputations. The reputation of even the greatest figures like Picasso are in flux.
When I came into the business, things changed a lot, and my life was in a real state of flux.
Death not merely ends life, it also bestows upon it a silent completeness, snatched from the hazardous flux to which all things human are subject.
Sense is a line, the mind is a circle. Sense is like a line which is the flux of a point running out from itself, but intellect like a circle that keeps within itself.
Markets are constantly in a state of uncertainty and flux and money is made by discounting the obvious and betting on the unexpected.
You're in this constant state of flux and transition, as if you had jet lag all the time. The acting part of it is easy. It's all the other things that come with it that are a bit difficult.
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