Quotes About Eternity

Never the end, my love. Now that I have you at last. Only beginnings.

But marriage is forever.' 'Oh, not really,' he assured her. 'Only until one of us dies.' Her eyes widened. 'I do not want you to die,' she said. 'Perhaps you will go first,' he said, though I rather think I hope not. I would probably have grown accustomed to you by then and would miss you.

But marriage is forever.' 'Oh, not really,' he assured her. 'Only until one of us dies.' Her eyes widened. 'I do not want you to die,' she said. 'Perhaps you will go first,' he said, 'though I rather think I hope not. I would probably have grown accustomed to you by then and would miss you.

But hell need not be eternal unless one chooses to make it so.

Estuve muerto durante diez años, mi amor, y me has devuelto la vida en sólo un año.

God, he said very quietly. I have never been so terrified in my life. What? Diana frowned . . . I said I am terrified, he said. I think I am in love with you, Diana. I have never felt such a thing before or ever expected to do so. You don't have to say this, she said. I told you I expected nothing beyond tonight. I want a lifetime, he said. I want eternity. Diana, send me away.

What unnatural words. Always and forever! Those aren't human words, Jim. Not even stones are always and forever.

What unnatural words: always and forever! Not even stones are always and forever.

But, Jimmy! What unnatural words. Always and forever! Those aren't human words, Jim. Not even stones are always and forever.

The image pleases me enough : to slip from the body's tight container and into some luminous womb, gliding there without effort till the distant shapes glow brighter and more familiar, till all your beloveds hover before you, their lit arms held out in welcome.

É por isso que, quando prego e funerais, digo que a morte é a derradeira cura, porque é na morte que nos tornamos finalmente quem somos.

maybe death isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us--

Everything that was broken has forgotten its brokenness. I live now in a sky-house, through every window the sun. Also your presence. Our touching, our stories. Earthy and holy both. How can this be, but it is. Every day has something in it whose name is Forever.

The god of dirt came up to me many times and said so many wise and delectable things, I lay on the grass listening to his dog voice, frog voice; now, he said, and now, and never once mentioned forever from, One or Two Things

If there is life after the earth-life, will you come with me? Even then? Since we're bound to be something, why not together.

All eternity is in the moment.

Certainly there is within each of us a self that is neither a child, nor a servant of the hours. It is a third self, occasional in some of us, tyrant in others. This self is out of love with the ordinary; it is out of love with time. It has a hunger for eternity. Intellectual

Of course I am thinking the Lord was once young and will never in fact be old. And who else could this be, who goes off down the green path, Carrying his sandals, and singing?

The salamanders, like tiny birds, locked into formation, fly down into the endless mysteries of the transforming water, and how could anyone believe that anything in this world is only what it appears to be— that anything is ever final— that anything, in spite of its absence, ever dies a perfect death? (from the poem 'What Is It?' )

Over and over in the butterfly we see the idea of transcendence. In the forest we see not the inert but the aspiring. In water that departs forever and forever returns, we experience eternity.

Then I remember: death comes before the rolling away of the stone.

I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility

The question is, what will it be like after the last day? Will I float into the sky or will I fray within the earth or a river— remembering nothing? How desperate I would be if I couldn't remember the sun rising, if I couldn't remember trees, rivers; if I couldn't even remember, beloved, your beloved name.

Late, late, but now lovely and lovelier. And the two of us, together—a part of it.