“But nothing lasts, not even stone, not even despair.”

“…even in the folly of youth we know that nothing lasts, but … even in that folly we are afraid that maybe Nothing will last, that maybe Nothing will last forever, and anything is better than Nothing.… So now, as another poet sings, That Fancy passed me by And nothing will remain; which, praise the gods, is a damned lie since, praise, O gods! Nothing cannot remain anywhere since nothing is vacuum and vacuum is paradox and unbearable and we will have nothing of it even if we would, the damned-fool poet's Nothing.”

“Nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines. And everything can be reused.
- Hephaestus”

“After a while, though, even the deepest sorrow faltered, even the most penetrating despair lost its scalpel edge.”

“Even stone can be worn down with enough rain.”

“The deeds of men, as footprints in the desert.
Nothing under the circling moons is fated to last.
Even the sun goes down.”

“Nothing lasts forever, few things even last for long: all are susceptible of decay in one way or another; moreover all that begins also ends.”
Nihil perpetuum, pauca diuturna sunt; aliud alio modo fragile est, rerum exitus variantur, ceterum quicquid coepit et desinit.

“Even in the Capitol, there’s nothing to match the magnificence of this old building. But there is no give to the surface—only my flesh yields, my warmth taken. Stone conquers people every time.”

“And the pleasures and rewards of the intellect are inseparable from angst, uncertainty, conflict and even despair.”

“I see only reminders that nothing lasts forever, not even greatness.”
“Some things last.”
I faced him. “Really? And just what would that be?”
“The things that matter.”