Quotes About Names

Only in death will we have our own names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes.

Buster was Rant was Buddy. Chester was Chet was Dad. Irene was Mom was Reen. How folks lay claim to their loved ones is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.

Some of the plants have obituary names: Iris, Basil, Rue, Rosemary, and Verbena. Some, like meadowsweet and cowslips, sweet flag and spikenard, are like the names of Shakespeare fairies.

Algunas de las plantas tienen nombres de esquela necrológica: luisa, rosa, ruda, melisa. Algunas, como la reina de los prados y la vellorita, la caléndula o la eufrasia, parecen nombres de hadas de Shakespeare. La lengua cerval con su olor a vainilla dulce. El olmo escocés, otro astringente natural.

My name's Mapo," the boy says. "Mesa Jar Jar.

And on the plantations, the overseers preserved the names of workers in rows of tight cursive, every name an asset, breathing capital, profit made flesh.

Up the steps he goes, into the drab office block. A heaviness in the corridors. He walks along, shaking hands, touching shoulders. He knows every single one of their names. They are polite, deferent—scared, too. If they are to own it, they are also the ones to lose it. A valuable thing. Once in a thousand years. Peace.

Right now I am thinking of writing another cookbook. All cookbooks have a gimmick, and mine will be that it contains recipes that I have invented and named after famous people. Some of them are: Brisket of Brynner (very lean meat) Carson Casserole (it's got everything on it) Barbecued Walters Marinated Maude Roasted Rhoda King King Curry (it will feed about eight thousand people) Fricassee of Fonzi Pickled Rickles Raquel Relish Leftovers à la Gabors

London was like a machine. We were all being shot backwards and forwards on this plain foundation to make some pattern. The British Museum was another department of the factory. The swing-doors swung open; and there one stood under the vast dome, as if one where a thought in the huge bald fore head which is so splendidly encircled by a band of famous names.

London has swallowed up many millions of young men called Smith; thought nothing of fantastic Christian names like Septimus with which their parents have thought to distinguish them.

My husband and son are at the movies, and the hellhounds, appropriately named Duvel (Duch/Belgian dialect for ''devil'') and Hexe (German for ''witch''), are in the backyard for the evening. Only the cat, Vegas (I know, right? Totally doesn't fit the theme, but she came with the name) is running around the house, She gives the newcomers a bored look before heading to the bedroom to get white fur all over my pillow. What grows on Vegas does not stay on Vegas.

Caltech honored me -- they named an asteroid after me. There's only two of them up there with names. One of them is Walter Cronkite. The other is Tommy Lasorda.

Charlie himself had had many homes, going so far back that he only had the vaguest, haziest memories of them. A man, even a man like Charlie Valentine, had limited room for memories, and the new ones kept kicking the old ones out, the way slang replaces the proper names for this or for that, cheapening the nouns and the verbs until they were barely recognizable.

Hannah has gone over to her friend Delaney's house. Hannah has a slew of friends with names like that, Delaney and Cassidy and Reilly, and even a tiny, owlish girl named O'Malley: names, it seems, that their parents plucked arbitrarily from the Boston phone book.

zoegirl: have u named the chicks? SnowAngel:yes, but i keep getting them mixed up. so now i call all of them "squishy." they're the collective squishy. zoegirl: *r* they squishy? SnowAngel: when you squeeze them,yes. but not in a yucky way. SnowAngel: they're growing on me, the little squishies. altho 1 of them pooped on my pillow. zoegirl: u let them on your bed? SnowAngel: they like it when i bounce them.

When Allah manifests Itself to us as the Real, or the Cosmos, we perceive the Divine Names. The Names, due to their distinction from one another (although they all proceed from the same Essence), generate duality. The Names are the self-disclosure of the Essence. However, in knowing Allah as Essence, the dervish crosses over to Unity.

Although each person contains all the Divine Names within him or her self, each person also has a particular Name that uniquely manifests the Divine. This is his or her particular Lord (al-rabb al-khass). Each person has his or her own 'Lord.' This 'Lord' is one aspect of Allah and flows from one of His Divine Names.

Als wij geen namen zouden hebben, zou alles veel duidelijker zijn. Gewoon wat vluchtige materie met een beetje bewustzijn, verschijningen die komen en tamelijk snel weer verdwijnen. Door die namen denken we dat we heel wat zijn, we denken misschien zelfs dat ze ons beschermen, maar wie weet nog de namen van alle miljarden die verdwenen zijn?

That's the one immortal thing about a mortal, Leucò. The memory he carries with him, the memory he leaves behind him. That is what names and words are. When they remember even men smile. A smile of resignation.

Kids are great. That's one of the best things about our business, all the kids you get to meet. It's a shame they have to grow up to be regular people and come to the games and call you names.

Everybody should customize their names.

Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names.

From our ancestors come our names, but from our virtues our honors.

The Balti had as many names for rock as the Inuit have for snow.