Quotes About Eternity

Chacun doit laisser quelque chose derrière soi à sa mort, disait mon grand-père. Un enfant, un livre, un tableau, une maison. (...) Quelque chose que la main a touché d'une façon ou d'une autre pour que l'âme ait un endroit où aller après la mort.

the sun goes on, day after day, burning and burning. The sun and time.

So that man, the first one, knew what we know now: our hour is short, eternity is long. With this knowledge came pity and mercy, so we spared others for the later, more intricate, more mysterious benefits of love.

Saule dedzina katru dienu. T? dedzina Laiku. Pasaule ri??o pa apli un ap savu asi, bet Laiks dedzina gadus un cilv?kus t?pat, bez vi?a l?dzdal?bas. Ja vi?š l?dz ar citiem dedzin?t?jiem dedzin?s cilv?ka roku rad?to, bet saule dedzin?s Laiku, tad ta?u nekas nepaliks p?ri!

Why, most men jump at the chance to give up everything for nothing. There's nothing we're so slapstick with as our own immortal souls.

The sound of its death came after.

The best sculpture, like the head of Nefertiti, says again and again, The Beautiful One was here, is here, and will be here, forever.

Kai tau devyneri metai, atrodo, kad visada buvo devyneri ir visada taip ir bus devyneri. Kai ateina trisdešimt, tai šventai tiki, kad taip vis? gyvenim? ir balansuosi ant šios puikios brandaus amžiaus ribos. O kai sukaks septyniasdešimt, tau visada ir amžinai bus septyniasdešimt. Žmogus gyvena dabartyje, vis tiek ar ji jauna, ar sena, o kitokios dabarties n?ra.

Death makes everything else sad. But death itself only scares. If there wasn't death, all other things wouldn't get tainted.

She laid a hand on his face. "Son," she said. "We love you. We all love you. No matter how different you are, no matter if you leave us one day." She kissed his cheek. "And if and when you die your bones will lie undisturbed, we'll see to that, you'll lie at ease forever, and I'll come see you every All Hallows' Eve and tuck you in more secure.

Le cose che si sono viste una volta non possono morire, semplicemente non possono. Da qualche parte, nelle celle gocciolanti di cera di un alveare o nelle trentamile lenticole che ornano la testa di una falena, tutti i colori e le cose viste in un dato anno dovevano potersi ritrovare

What a tragedy that he thought the precious blood of the Savior was shed simply to make him happy in this life, rather than to make him prepared for the next one.

What will you do when the Law of God comes in terror; when the trumpet of the archangel shall tear you from your grave; when the eyes of God shall burn their way into your guilty soul; when the great books shall be opened and all your shame and sin shall be published? Can you stand against an angry Law in that day? A

We each need to look into eternity and then ask ourselves what we are offering this generation."-Ray Comfort

Everything of this world is shakable. Buildings crumble into dust, companies declare bankruptcy, our degrees fade into illegibility, our houses age and creak and crumble, our cars rust out, and worst of all, our bodies eventually wear out. But the kingdom of God lasts forever. When the angel Gabriel came to Mary, he said that she would give birth to a Son who would "rule over the house of his father Jacob, and of his kingdom there will be no end" (Luke 1:33).

The metaphor is the mask of God through which eternity is to be experienced.

The images of God are many, he said, calling them "the masks of eternity" that both cover and reveal "the Face of Glory." He wanted to know what it means that God assumes such different masks in different cultures, yet how it is that comparable stories can be found in these divergent traditions

We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!

We looked at the venerable stream not in the vivid flush of a short day that comes and departs for ever, but in the August light of abiding memories.

I don't think a single one of them had any clear idea of time, as we at the end of countless ages have. They still belonged to the beginnings of time—

We looked at the venerable stream not in the vivid flush of a short day that comes and departs for ever, but in the august light of abiding memories. And

I don't think a single one of them had any clear idea of time, as we at the end of countless ages have. They still belonged to the beginnings of time.

For the dead can live only with the exact intensity and quality of the life imparted to them by the living.

I think it is the lonely, without a fireside or an affection they may call their own, those who return not to a dwelling but to the land itself, to meet its disembodied, eternal, and unchangeable spirit—it is those who understand best its severity, its saving power, the grace of its secular right to our fidelity, to our obedience.