Quotes About Legacy

We don not think, in the holy places; we think in bed, afterwards, when the glare, and the the noise, and the confusion are gone, and in fancy we revisit alone, the solemn monuments of the past, and summon the phantom pageants of an age that has passed away.

Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry.

I was sorry to have my name mentioned among the great authors because they have a sad habit of dying off

Only two things we'll regret on deathbed – that we are a little loved and little traveled.

B?rak?n ac?mas?z hayat elinden geleni ard?na koymas?n; tek bildiÄŸim ÅŸudur ki... benim için de bir yerlerde bir mezar vard?r.

Nada devem saber a meu respeito a não ser que tenham lido «As Aventuras de Tom Sawyer». Não faz mal. O livro foi escrito pelo senhor Mark Twain, e ele contava quase sempre a verdade.

LEGEND OF THE SPECTACULAR RUIN The

Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even      the undertaker will be sorry. —Pudd'nhead Wilson's      Calendar

Cumplamos la tarea de vivir de tal modo que cuando muramos, incluso el de la funeraria lo sienta

India is, the cradle of the human race, the birthplace of human speech, the mother of history, the grandmother of legend, and the great grandmother of tradition. Our most valuable and most instructive materials in the history of man are treasured ... in India only.

I admire him, I frankly confess it; and when his time comes I shall buy a piece of the rope for a keepsake.

Your mother couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died. None of the family couldn't before they died. I can't; and here you're a-swelling yourself up like this.

There's only one choice now: finish what Zampanò himself failed to finish. Re-inter this thing in a binding tomb. Make it only a book.

The paramedics said there was nothing unusual, just the way it goes, eighty some years and the inevitable kerplunk, the system goes down, lights blink out and there you have it, another body on the floor surrounded by things that don't mean much to anyone except to the one who can't take any of them along.

But here it is. All that's left. Incoherent scrap. Too bad so much of his life had to slip between the lines of even his own words.

It looks like its impossible to leave a lasting trace here.

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

Goodbye, Papa, you saved me. You taught me to read. No one can play like you. I'll never drink champagne. No one can play like you. -Liesel

I guess that's the beauty of books. When they finish they don't really finish.

Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.

I also fear that nothing really ends at the end. Things just keep going as long as memory can wield its ax, always finding a soft part in your mind to cut through and enter.

For some reason, dying men always ask questions they know the answer to. Perhaps it's so they can die being right.

I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They're running at me.

También me temo que nada finaliza realmente cuando llega el fin. Los recuerdos permanecen mientras son capaces de blandir su espada y encontrar un punto blando en la mente para hacer un tajo y penetrar en ella.