Quotes About Legacy

The greatest blessing you will ever bestow in your life you may never know. And you don't need to know. We don't have to do spectacular things. We just have to keep doing what God has called us to do. In a very real sense, that boils down to bringing people to the table, and trusting God to… bring in a harvest decades or generations later.

Our life is made by the death of others.

Art is the queen of all sciences communicating knowledge to all the generations of the world.

What is fair in men, passes away, but not so in art

as a well-spent day gives, joy in sleep so a well-spent life brings, joy in dying

Nuestra vida está hecha de la muerte de otros

A beautiful body perishes, but a work of art dies not." ~ Leonardo da Vinci

We do not lack devices for measuring these miserable days of ours, in which it should be our pleasure that they be not frittered away without leaving behind any memory of ourselves in the mind of men.

Just as a well-filled day brings blessed sleep, so a well-employed life brings a blessed death

As a day well spent makes sleep seem pleasant, so a life well employed makes death pleasant. A life well spent is long.

As a well-spent day brings a happy sleep, so a well-employed life brings a happy death.

Chi semina virtù fama raccoglie.

Live full, die empty

Oh sure, I have regrets, but that's the nice thing about age. Regrets fade. And eventually, you die.

With them we may say there died a thing older than themselves, these were the Last of the Peasants, the last of the Old Scots folk. A new generation comes up that will know them not, except as a memory in a song...

Every city is a ghost. New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park.

The colonizer writes the history, winning twice: A theft of land. A theft of witness.

We've left the moment. It's gone. We're somewhere else now, and that's okay. We've still got that moment with us somewhere, deep in our memory, seeping into our DNA. And when our cells get scattered , whenever that happens, this moment will still exist in them. Those cells might be the building block of something new. A planet or star or a sunflower, a baby. Maybe even a cockroach. Who knows? Whatever it is, it'll be a part of us, this thing right here and now, and we'll be a part of it.

Everyone's dying. A little, every day. Make it count.

It is how it has always been. We will accept the legacy of our ancestors,' Asha says, smiling, and in her smile I do not see warmth or wisdom; I see fear. You're afraid of losing your hold on them,' I say coolly. I? I have no power.' Don't you? If you keep them from the magic, they will never know what their lives could be.' They will remain protected,' Asha insists. No,' I say. 'Only untested' -page 569

But sons are a different matter to a man. More a duty than an indulgence.

Why does it always seem that I have only the shadow of my father? I'm like a child constantly grabbing at his coattails and missing.

Every city is a ghost. New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel beam, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting.

We are the dead. We are the keepers of the stories. We hold the history of blood and promises. We are speaking. Are you listening? Will you hear?