Quotes About Immortality

Elves apparently had a short childhood. Not like witches, who seemed to take forever to grow up, according to Jenks.

No dejaré que me capture-le respondí-. Lucharé hasta que no pueda más. Si muero, te quedarás así para siempre. Su sonrisa se ensanchó. -No morirás-respondió con una mueca. -¿Por qué? ¿Porque tú estás conmigo? -Vaya, por fin lo has aprendido.

I'm a five-hundred-year-old born vampire with an ever-expanding wardrobe, a serious cosmetics addiction, and enough outstanding Visa charges to fund a small third-world country.

The only way a man could defy time was to leave behind buildings that would not die.

Human beings push against each other and trample on each other; some sink exhausted to the ground and serve as a bridge for others, some perish—they are the ones least fitted for coping with the push, and they perish. That can't be helped. But the others flourish and blossom. Such is life's immortality. All this, mind you, they knew at the pump.

Lothaire is very much alive." "You swear?" "Often. Though not as much as foul-mouthed Regin. I try not to in front of Bertil." She petted the bat. "I meant—will Lothaire live?" "He will.

He's like six hundred years younger than you are. I refuse to be the moral compass of our cell! Most weekends I have an intoxispell bong attached to my mouth like a respirator. I love scatological humor, and I list 'pranks involving nuclear waste' and 'making demons eat things' as my hobbies.

Just because you're a gutless harlot doesn't mean I won't find your... attributes attractive. I might be immortal, but I'm still a red-blooded male. Harlot? Who talks like that? Father Time, meet the Flinstones.

Don't stop kissing me, vampire, or I will kill you.

Old as carbon, Nix agreed. And so powerful I'm working on my demigoddess badges.

You'd think after two thousand years, I'd be accustomed to looks of fear.

You stay on me like my godsdamned shadow, vampire. Mirceo's lips curved. Eternally, demon.

And exactly how old are you, MacRieve?" "Twelve hundred, give or take." She glanced back at him, as though gauging if he was jesting. When he raised his brows, she said, "Great Hekate, you're a relic. Don't you have a museum exhibit to be in somewhere?

So . . . gods are real?" Aric nodded. "That's how the game came about. They grew bored.

And now, for the first time in three hundred hellish years, Sebastian desperately wanted to live.

Eternally, Demon.

When a berserker wins his two hundredth battle in Wóden's name, the god will grant him ohalla—immortality with untold strength.

Each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.

The nomes are immortal; that is, they do not perish, as mortals do, unless they happen to come in contact with an egg. If an egg touches them—either the outer shell or the inside of the egg—the nomes lose their charm of perpetual life and thereafter are liable to die through accident or old age, just as all humans are.

Immortal beings have been compared to stars, these are existences that linger on long after the death of the thing itself.

Our hope of immortality does not come from any religions, but nearly all religions come from that hope.

The only figure in history who endures is Jesus.

Without a belief in personal immortality, religion surely is like an arch resting on one pillar, like a bridge ending in an abyss.

In spite of all the yearnings of men, no one can produce a single fact or reason to support the belief in God and in personal immortality.