Quotes About Legacy

Our stories must be passed to our sons and daughters, for with but one generation, history and truth are lost forever.

I saw sadness when I looked at what was left of them. The demigods who had once controlled the heavens had been brought low, humbled to the point of death. I always imagined I heart their crumbled masterpieces singing an endless mourning dirge. I turned, looking at the wild grass shivering across the plateau. "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.

Greater stories will have their way.

Words have longer lives than people.

Choose your words carefully, even the words you think, because they become seeds, and seeds become history.

From the loins of Morrighan, Hope will be born. On its heels came a whispered name that was always just beyond my reach, not yet mine to hear, but I knew that one day my children's children or the ones who came after would hear it. One day hope would have a name.

With Pauline at my side, in one swift act that could never be undone, an act that ended a thousand dreams but gave birth to one, I bolted for the cover of the forest and never looked back. Lest we repeat history, the stories shall be passed from father to son, from mother to daughter, for with but one generation, history and truth are lost forever. —Morrighan Book of Holy Text, Vol. III

The world would always know, even if men forgot.

Write it down, he had told me. Write down every word once you get there, Before the truth is forgotten. And now we do, at least the parts we remember. —Greyson Ballenger, 14

I finally understood that history wasn't just written on walls and in books but made in a thousand daily decisions, and some of them went wrong, some went right, and some decisions just had to be made because time was running out. Waiting for someone else to write your history was no way to live. Sometimes it was only a certain way to die.

From the loins of Morrighan, Hope will be born.

I understood monuments now. Some were built of stone and sweat, and others were built of dreams, but they were all made of the things we didn't want to forget.

Lest we repeat history, Let the stories be passed, From father to son, from mother to daughter, For with but one generation, History and truth are lost forever. —Song of Jezelia

We are the first family, and every bird that flies overhead, every breath that is taken, every drop of water that falls, it all belongs to us. We make the laws here. We own whatever you can see. Never let one handful of soil slip through your fingers, or you will lose it all.

This is the true treasure. Get them there. It's up to you now. Protect them.

We're all going to die.

Lest we repeat history, let the stories be passed, from father to son, from mother to daughter, for with but one generation, history and truth are lost forever.

Some things last." I faced him. "Really? And just what would that be?" "The things that matter." (Pg 126-127)

Maybe I finally understood that history wasn't just written on walls and in books but made in a thousand daily decisions, and some of them went wrong, some went right, and some decisions just had to be made because time was running out. Waiting for someone else to write your history was no way to live. Sometimes it was only a certain way to die.

We are all stardust and memories.

We take too much of our heritage for granted. Harriman State Park is not Mt. Vernon. Nor is it Yosemite. But heritage cannot be measured on a scale...

One of the first things which Comfort remembered being told was that she had been named for her Aunt Comfort, who had given her a gold ring and a gold dollar for her name. Comfort could not understand why. It always seemed to her that her aunt, and not she, had given the name, and that she should have given the ring and the dollar; but that was what her mother had told her. "Your Aunt Comfort gave you this beautiful gold ring and this gold dollar for your name," said she.

Words will never oxidize

Simply to live does not justify existence, for life is a mere gesture on the surface of the earth, and death a return to that from which we had never been wholly separated; but oh to leave a trace, no matter how faint, of that brief gesture! For someone, some day, may find it beautiful! —Frank O'Hara1