Quotes About Legacy

Les amis de l'abc... a group which barely missed becoming historic

Our acts make or mar us, we are the children of our own deeds.

Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. --I shall feel it.

We who die here will die in the radiance of the future. We go to a tomb flooded with the light of dawn.

he beheld the grand figure of the people emerge from the Revolution, and the grand figure of France spring forth from the Empire. He asserted in his conscience, that all this had been good. What

The counterfeits of the past assume false names, and gladly call themselves the future.

architecture is dead, with no ghost to return, killed by the printed book because it did not last as long and cost more.

Frères, qui meurt ici meurt dans le rayonnement de l'avenir, et nous entrons dans une tombe toute pénétrée d'aurore.

It is the features of the years that makes up the face of the century.

believe, in St. Augustine,—'Place your hopes in the man from whom you do not inherit.

It is the lineaments of the years which form the countenance of the century.

Nesre?a je za ?oveka što ostavlja iza sebe no? kojoj je on dao oblik.

Tyranny follows the tyrant. Woe to the man who leaves behind a shadow that bears his form.

We ourselves respect the past in certain instances and in all cases grant it clemency, provided it consents to being dead. If it insists on being alive, we attack and try to kill it.

La vejez no hace presa en los genios de lo ideal; para los Dante y los Miguel Ángel, envejecer es crecer; para los Aníbal y los Bonaparte, ¿es menguar?

This is how my love for her goes on: in moments remembered and moments imagined. It's how I keep her alive. Hers is the voice in my head, my conscience. I see the world, at least in part, through her eyes. Her story—which is the story of a time and land and the indomitable will of a people—is my story; two lives woven together, and like any good story, ours will begin and end and begin again. Love is what remains.

Marah will come looking for me one day, Kate had said, pressing the journal into my hands. Be with her when she reads it. And my boys… show them these words when they can't remember me.

I stand up feeling my new role. I am a motherless daughter now, a sisterless woman. There is no one left of the family I was born into; there is only the family I have made. My mother is in all of us, though especially in me, and the dreams of my father to, so it is my job to be all of us now.

This is what my story gave them, and in the past ten years, we have loved enough for a lifetime. I think, Good-bye, my girls. I love you. I have always loved you. And I go.

She pouted prettily, and he wondered if that was one of the things they taught wealthy young girls at schools like Miss Porter's. If not, it had been passed down from one generation to another as carefully as the secret of fire.

For the whole of their lives he'd been like one of the apple trees on this property. Sturdy and dependable.

Memories are who we are, Tul. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and memories are what last. That's why your life flashes before your eyes when you die—you're picking the memories you want. It's like packing.

I look at him, loving this child of mine and knowing my death will devastate him. I don't want him to watch me die by degrees. I don't want that for his daughters, either. I know what it is like; some images, once seen, can never be forgotten. I want them to remember me as I am, not as I will be when the cancer has had its way.

As mothers and daughters, we are connected with one another. My mother is in the bones of my spine, keeping me straight and true. She is in my blood, making sure it runs rich and strong. She is in the beating of my heart. I cannot now imagine a life without her.