Quotes About Inheritance

raise them up, and watch them do the same thing, generation after generation, so that when you die you know you are permanently a part of the great web of life. That you are not a loose thread, snipped off.

But how can you be God, if Justice is more powerful than you?" I am his daughter, five hundred generations from him. Shouldn't the children of God learn something in that time? Lared

Every woman becomes their mother. That's their tragedy. And no man becomes his. That's his tragedy.

it seemed to me that he had learned not only to destroy what was left behind, but also to poison what was to come.

Tzu-chang[21] asked whether we can know what is to be ten generations hence. The Master said, The Yin[22] took over the manners of the Hsia; the harm and the good that they did them can be known. The Chou took over the manners of the Yin; the harm and the good that they did them can be known. And we may know what shall be, even an hundred generations hence, whoever follows Chou.

There is no book and your fathers are dead in the ground.

The world of our fathers resides within us. Ten thousand generations and more. A form without a history has no power to perpetuate itself. What has no past can have no future.

The Good Book says that the meek shall inherit the earth and I expect that's probably the truth. I aint no freethinker, but I'll tell you what. I'm a long way from bein convinced that it's all that good a thing.

The father dead has euchered the son out of his patrimony. For it is the death of the father to which the son is entitled and to which he is heir, more so than his goods. He will not hear of the small mean ways that tempered the man in life. He will not see him struggling in follies of his own devising. No. The world which he inherits bears him false witness.

The purpose of all families in their lives and in their deaths is to create the traitor who will finally erase their history forever.

Do you think that your fathers are watching? That they weigh you in their ledger book? Against what? There is no book and your fathers are dead in the ground.

They said that it was no accident of circumstance that a man be born in a certain country and not some other and they said that the weathers and seasons that form a land form also the inner fortunes of men in their generations and are passed on to their children and are not so easily come by otherwise.

It was for us and it will be for others

The boy who rode on slightly before him sat a horse not only as if he'd been born to it which he was but as if were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were he would have found them anyway.

Out of their anterior lives they had arrived at the same understanding as their fathers before them. That movement itself is a form of property.

The world to come must be composed of what is past. No other material is at hand.

The father dead has euchered the son out of his patrimony. For it is the death of the father to which the son is entitled and to which he is heir, more so than his goods. He will not hear of the small mean ways that tempered the man in life. He will not see him struggling in follies of his own devising. No. The world which he inherits bears him false witness. He is broken before a frozen god and he will never find his way.

I inherited him from my grandfather. My family had a carnival. He was one of the acts. My grandfather died and the parrot hasnt spoken since. Sort of like my grandfather's clock.

Therese of Austry would have made a great treasure hunter if she hadn't been born the daughter of an Emperor.

He had his mother's looks, his father's temper, and nobody's brains.

Hiccup the Second was gone forever, separated from the Dragon by an ocean of sky and time, and he could not come back to visit. But still, somehow, a tiny part of him was here, in the raggedy, awkward shape of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. And the Dragon Furious loved him.

Men fight for liberty and win it with hard knocks. Their children, brought up easy, let it slip away again, poor fools. And their grandchildren are once more slaves.

They looked at each other and laughed, then looked away, filled with darkness and secrecy. Then they kissed and remembered the magnificence of the night. It was so magnificent, such an inheritance of a universe of dark reality, that they were afraid to seem to remember. They hid away the remembrance and the knowledge.

It is not who begets us, that matters, but where fate places us.