Life & Wisdom Quote by Thomas a Kempis

A sharp little sigh like this isn’t nostalgia; it’s a spiritual correction. Thomas a Kempis, writing in the wake of plague, political churn, and ecclesiastical spectacle, compresses an entire medieval worldview into one line: whatever looks solid in public is already evaporating. The speed matters. “Swiftly” turns the thought from mild moralizing into a warning about misperception. You don’t just lose glory eventually; you’re already behind, admiring something that has begun to vanish.

The intent is tactical. In The Imitation of Christ, a Kempis isn’t trying to impress you with metaphysics; he’s trying to reorder your attention. “Glory of the world” names the loud rewards system of status, acclaim, office, beauty, victory. He treats it as a rigged currency: it purchases a moment of visibility and then collapses. The phrase “passes away” is doing double work, too. It’s a polite verb for decay, but it also suggests a procession, like a parade moving out of sight. Worldly glory doesn’t get smashed; it simply keeps going, leaving you stranded with your need for it.

The subtext is almost ruthless: if you build your identity on applause, you’ve built it on weather. That’s why the line still lands now. In an attention economy that rebrands fleeting visibility as achievement, a Kempis reads less like a monk and more like an unamused diagnostician, reminding us that the most celebrated thing in the room is often the least durable.