Quotes About Legacy

Christ, man, it's 1871, ain't you people ever gonna forget about that slavery stuff?

Why will I bury you? So that one day I might disturb your grave.

Till the Future daresForget the Past, his fate and fame shall beAn echo and a light unto eternity!

Music, when soft voices die,Vibrates in the memory;Odors, when sweet violets sicken,Live within the sense they quicken.Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,Are heaped for the beloved's bed;And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,Love itself shall slumber on.

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose-leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

Kings are like stars—they rise and set, they haveThe worship of the world, but no repose.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts have their root in Greece

The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that once belived they were eternal.

My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Music, When Soft Voices Die Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the belovèd's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

For famous men have the whole earth as their memorial.

The Egyptians had a particularly nasty way of getting rid of people they felt had no consequence. Instead of embalming them, they simply constructed a fake mummy made from old strips of linen wrapped around a dummy of mud. If, in our modern world, you feel that there are a lot of "mud mummies" around you, get rid of the mud.

Noah got drunk, which led to his grandson Canaan being cursed (Gen. 9:25).

Alas, for him who is gone and hath done no good work! The trumpet of march has sounded, and his load was not bound on.

There are 10,000 books in my library, and it will keep growing until I die. This has exasperated my daughters, amused my friends and baffled my accountant. If I had not picked up this habit in the library long ago, I would have more money in the bank today; I would not be richer.

Quite simply, I love newspapers and the men and women who make them. Newspapers have given me a full, rich life. They have provided me with a ringside seat at some of the most extraordinary events in my time on the planet. They have been my university. They have helped feed, house and educate my children. I want them to go on and on and on.

The dead live in our memories.

Is it possible to have some kind of genetic memory of a place where you've never lived, but your ancestors have? Or am I just a sentimental fool, my judgement fuddled by nostalgia, Guinness, and the romance of the diaspora?

No one ever asked what was my relationship with Bart Giamatti. We used to talk about baseball a lot as a player and a commissioner, just talk about the game, what could we do to help the game, where's the game going, he was pretty good.

I want to age with some dignity.

People say, "You've gotta go on, man, otherwise all those kids, they'll be finished, they'll have nothing to live for." That's rock and roll!

I heard that Harry Nilsson had died. The secret to being a successful hellraiser, it seemed, was to stop raising hell before hell razed you.