Quotes About Legacy

I'll defend the girl with my last breath," he promised, and clasped his hand dramatically to the chest of his ragged frock coat. "Oh, wait. That doesn't mean much, does it, since I gasped that last breath before the Magna Carta was dry on the page? I mean, of course I'll look after her, with whatever is left of my life.

Mark this well: the brave never die, for we remember.

It's written in our DNA somewhere: our children first, the rest of the world second.

Dead doesn't mean gone.

This is the graveyard where they buried our future.

I understand why Laura did what she did. I think I'm supposed to be mad at her, but I'm not. I admire her courage. She saw what the world had to offer and said, No thank you. She saw the lies and hypocrisy and violence and hate and meaningless of it all and she chose another path. She won't live to see her grandchildren, but also won't live to see them suffer.

The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There's no getting over that." My

The important people in your lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart.

The story that had once singed and flared in her had long since receded, as her habit of silence turned, over the decades, into law. Did she mean to take it to the grave with her, then? Plainly, that was what she was going to do. She was going to take it to the grave. And it would end there. Dust.

And because history cared not at all if the negligent left its missives unread, she insisted on caring.

If we looked through the eyes of history, we'd live differently. We'd live right.

So said the old man: As a boy I gathered fruit from the trees planted by my forebears. Am I not, then, required to plant the trees that will sustain my grandchildren?

Everybody is a story. When I was a child, people sat around kitchen tables and told their stories. We don't do that so much anymore. Sitting around the table telling stories is not just a way of passing time. It is the way the wisdom gets passed along. The stuff that helps us to live a life worth remembering.

Hace falta estar ciego, tener como metidas en los ojos raspaduras de vidrio, cal viva, arena hirviendo, para no ver la luz que salta en nuestros actos, que ilumina por dentro nuestra lengua, nuestra diaria palabra. Hace falta querer morir sin estela de gloria y alegría, sin participación de los himnos futuros, sin recuerdo en los hombres que juzguen el pasado, sombrío de la Tierra. Hace falta querer ya en vida ser pasado, obstáculo sangriento, cosa muerta, seco olvido.

Dünyada hiçbir ÅŸey, sahte kahramanlar?n ünlerinden daha kal?c? deÄŸildir.

Was du schaffst überdauert die Zeit.

He considered razing the house and rebuilding, but he realized that houses are not haunted, and regardless of the architecture with which we surround ourselves,our ghosts stay with us until we ourselves are ghosts.

those who wish to punish the current and future generations for the inequities of a generation long gone, and who equate justice with revenge, are the most dangerous people in the world.

And though the blood of Abel had once cried out from the Earth, we had come now to a time when so much blood had been spilled over the millennia that the throat of the Earth was clotted and choked, and fresh blood could not raise a voice from it.

Among the nations of Earth in all its history, ours is one of the precious few that has not brought forth its Hitler, its Stalin, its Pol Pot, its Mao Tse-tung, its Vlad the Impaler, the one who is never satisfied to have every knee bend to him but wants also to be the architect of a new world by destroying the existing one.

None of us ever has more than this moment. Tomorrow becomes today, today becomes yesterday. The best I can do for my boy is give him enough todays that he can make a past for himself that will have had some meaning in it.

All death matters. Only to the living.

We are born with the dead: See, they return and bring us with them." —T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Each smallest act of kindness reverberates across great distances and spans of time, affecting lives unknown to the one whose generous spirit was the source of this good echo, because kindness is passed on and grows each time it's passed, until a simple courtesy becomes an act of selfless courage years later and far away. Likewise, each small meanness, each expression of hatred, each act of evil. —This Momentous Day, H.R. White