Quotes About Heritage

ancient television and withdrew a silver-black vacuum tube. "See this? Part of my DNA, sort of. . . ." He tossed the thing into the shadows and Case heard it pop and tinkle. "You're always building models. Stone circles. Cathedrals. Pipe-organs. Adding machines.

We're not savages. We're English.

My father was an historian

The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity, and independence bequeathed by your fathers is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. .

History is a ribbon, always unfurling. History is a journey. And as we continue our journey, we think of those who traveled before us . . .

Daniel Patrick Moynihan, then a young Kennedy appointee in the Labor Department, spoke for most when he said, "I don't think there's any point in being Irish if you don't know the world is going to break your heart eventually." During those four cold, bleak November days, all Americans were Irish.

Blood mixture and the resultant drop in the racial level is the sole cause of the dying out of old cultures; for men do not perish as a result of lost wars, but by the loss of that force of resistance which is continued only in pure blood. All who are not of good race in this world are chaff.15

The Hereditary Farm Law of September 29, 1933, was a remarkable mixture of pushing back the peasants to medieval days and of protecting them against the abuses of the modern monetary age.

A man who would not love his father's grave is worse than a wild animal.

When the green hills are covered with talking wires and the wolves no longer sing, what good will the money you paid for our land be then

At night when the streets of your towns and cities are quiet, and you think them empty, they will throng with the spirits that once thronged them, and still love those places. The white man will never be alone. So let him be just and deal kindly with my people. The dead have power too.

Tiger father begets tiger son.

Each generation will reap what the former generation has sown.

A man's life from birth to death was a series of transition rites which brought him nearer and nearer to his ancestors.

Where I come from in the Eastern Region, life is still -- well, things are changing very fast but if one is interested, one can still see signs of what life used to look like.

When a tradition gathers enough strength to go on for centuries, you don't just turn it off one day.

In the temple, I sit on the cool floor next to Grandfather, beneath the stern benevolence of the goddess's glance. Grandfather is clad in only a traditional silk dhoti--no fancy modern clothes for him. That's one of the things I admire about him, how he is always unapologetically, uncompromisingly himself. His spine is erect and impatient; white hairs blaze across his chest.

Like many Indian children, I grew up on the vast, varied, and fascinating tales of the Mahabharat.

What I am leaving behind—I cannot articulate what it is, but I know I will not find it, ever, in America.

This is the prevalence of ritual. To remember something that cannot be forgotten.

I didn't leave Africa, I left Nigeria, and for political reasons. But ... I've never, never left Africa, and I certainly never left what it means to be Ibo. That is something you carry with you.

I do not think I have left my country. I think it has traveled with me

From my country you have taken its future, and to my country you have sent the objects from your past. We do not have the seed, we have the husk.

Leaning forward, Bergstrom said, "I'm asking you. Come on, give me a folk legend. Anything. You have to have a story hidden away somewhere." David shook his head. "You're not serious, surely?" Bergstrom studied him carefully for a moment. "You forget, I live and work among the Inuit. Stories