Quotes About Immortality

It is permissible even for a dying hero to think before he dies how men will speak of him hereafter. His fame lasts perhaps two thousand years. And what are two thousand years? (asked Mr Ramsay ironically, staring at the hedge). What, indeed, if you look from a mountain top down the long wastes of the ages? The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare.

Judith Shakespeare] lives in you and in me [...] she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh.

What, indeed, if you look from a mountain-top down the long wastes of the ages? The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare.

Is it permissible even for a dying hero to think before he dies ow men will think of him hereafter. His fame lasts perhaps two thousand years. And what are two thousand years?

Many friends have helped me in writing this book. Some are dead and so illustrious that I scarcely dare name them, yet no one can read or write without being perpetually in the debt of Defoe, Sir Thomas Browne, Sterne, Sir Walter Scott, Lord Macaulay, Emily Bronte, De Quincey, and Walter Pater — to name the first that come to mind. Others are alive, and though perhaps as illustrious in their own way, are less formidable for that very reason.

I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come out of him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. ...I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.… Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.

I'm thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art, And this is the only immortality that you and I may share, my Lolita.

You lose your immortality when you lose your memory.

That human life is but a first installment of the serial soul and that one's individual secret is not lost in the process of earthly dissolution, becomes something more than an optimistic conjecture, and even more than a matter of religious faith, when we remember that only commonsense rules immortality out.

Great sleepless artists who had to die for a few hours in order to live for centuries.

You lose your immortality when you lose your memory. And if you land then on Terra Caelestis, with your pillow and chamberpot, you are made to room not with Shakespeare or even Longfellow, but with guitarists and cretins.

Delvig's best poem is the one he dedicated to Pushkin, his schoolmate, in January 1815. A boy of sixteen, prophesying in exact detail literary immortality to a boy of fifteen, and doing it in a poem that is itself immortal - this is a combination of intuitive genius and actual destiny to which I can find no parallel in the history of world poetry.

only for great sleepless artists who had to die for a few hours in order to live for centuries

They must have been glorious time together, those two. And it is hard to believe that the warmth, the tenderness, the beauty of it has not been gathered, and it is not treasured somewhere, somehow, by some immortal witness of mortal life.

Penso agli uri e agli angeli, al segreto dei pigmenti duraturi, ai sonetti profetici, al rifugio dell'arte. E questa è la sola immortalità che tu e io possiamo condividere, mia Lolita.

You just promised me eternity, you know. I can make you live to regret it.

Apparently it was very lucrative to be a vampire.

fangjerk ~Wraith

So ask me again why I'll win a battle of wills." "Fine." She jammed her feet under the covers. "Why?" "Because I'm immortal and you're a mere human. I have an eternity to out-stubborn you.

Long ago, Louis Wu had stood at the void edge of Mount Lookitthat. The Long Fall River, on that world, ends in the tallest waterfall in known space. Louis's eyes had followed it down as far as they could penetrate the void mist. The featureless white of the void itself had grasped at his mind, and Louis Wu, half hypnotized, had sworn to live forever. How else could he see all there was to see? Now he reaffirmed that decision.

Victoria: ¿Por qué no puedo matarte? Kirtash: Yo iba a hacerte la misma pregunta

Louie, declared dead more than sixty years earlier, would outlive them all.