Best 476 quotes in «immortality quotes» category

If you seek success, serve others. If you seek immortality give. Serve or give your time, skills, talent or gift. In the end, what you leave behind are trials of the lives you changed and the hearts you touched.

If you seek success, serve others. If you seek immortality give. Serve or give your time, skills, talent or gift. In the end, what you leave behind are trails of the lives you changed and the hearts you touched.

If you want to live forever you are dreadfully dangerous because you're not living now.

I have given it much thought. There seems to be only one explanation for why we are here. Why our souls choose to incarnate as mortals only to suffer for a hundred years over and over again. I now understand we were once angels who chose to manifest as humans in order to experience the imperfect and tempestuous human love. So you see, if angels couldn’t refuse love then who am I to refuse you? And so I yield. I surrender to this. Our eternal dance.

I have no riches but my thoughts, Yet these are wealth enough for me; My thoughts of you are golden coins Stamped in the mint of memory; And I must spend them all in song, For thoughts, as well as gold, must be Left on the hither side of death To gain their immortality.

I jumped between them holding my hands up in front of me to stop the onslaught. We would all sit down and figure this out as rational adults. We’d been adults for a century at least, and it should not be a problem. It appeared to be a problem.

I love you, Esmeralda,” he said. “I love you, too,” she whispered back, and he couldn’t help smiling. At least he would die with those words in his ears.

Immortality can be soon achieved by using technology. The real issue is, "are humans compatible with eternity?

I love you now... I love you immortally, even if I die and there is nothing left of me.

I'm immortal. You consider the future because one day you'll die. I don't have that uncertainty." - Kiaran

Immortality was like sex: it made idiots of otherwise rational people.

Immortality is our mindset - mindset to transcend disease, aging and death. We live forever by our contribution to the world.

Immortality is a matter of the mind, not of the body - you are alive as long as people can remember you by your actions - by the idea that your life represents.

Immortality entails not invincibility.

Immortality is the new twenty!

Immortality: "It is impossible to be conscious of being unconscious." It is not possible to be aware of being unconscious from your own perspective. You cannot be aware of not being aware. You can be less aware/conscious, such as when you are asleep, but not completely unconscious (dead), because time would stand still for you. A billion years could pass, and you would not know it. How do you know you are dead? It is not possible to be aware of any gaps in life; it is continuous and never-ending from your own point of view. Death and birth are a continuous event from your own perspective. You will die physically, but you will be born into a new physical body. Being born happens, or you would not be here now. You were born into this life. It is what we know happens. There is no evidence anything else happens. True or false?

Immortality like this is about as useful as sunscreen on a submarine.

Immortality was overrated, as far as he was concerned. Hardy had enough problems as it was; living forever sounded like a death sentence for someone with his practical sensibilities.

In order to create an idea... to become an idea, it is a necessity for you to believe that it is your own idea. The idea will grow to define your entire life. And when you die... you don't.

Innocence has no place alongside immortality.

In the end, the only thing that really matters is how we treated all living things.

In your emotions: exercise Joy over sadness.

In this world where I sit at my desk writing these words, people die, they pass on, people are mortal. In the cyber world we inhabit they do not.

In the library, time is dammed up-- not just stopped but saved. The library is a gathering pool of narratives and of the people who came to find them. It is where we can glimpse immortality; in the library, we can live forever.

Into the darkness with the light of the moon beaming upon me. Bathing in the luminosity of it awakening the demon that is me!

In years past, a person died, and eventually all those with memories of him or her also died, bringing about the complete erasure of that person's existence. Just as the human body returned to dust, mingling with atoms of the natural world, a person's existence would return to nothingness. How very clean. Now, as if in belated punishment for the invention of writing, any message once posted on the Internet was immortal. Words as numerous as the dust of the earth would linger forever in their millions and trillions and quadrillions and beyond.

I saw that something remained of the fools' play, the death dance of human life, something lasting: works of art. They too will probably perish some day; they'll burn or crumble or be destroyed. Still, they outlast many human lives; they form a silent empire of images and relics beyond the fleeting moment. To work at that seems good and comforting to me, because it almost succeeds in making the transitory eternal.

I recalled with some discomfort that the man driving the vehicle had invented the sport of volcano boarding, presumably as a way of solving, in one deft move, the problems of the insufficient riskiness of both snowboarding and hanging out on the slopes of active volcanoes. Although I was not sure that I wanted to live forever, I was sure that I didn’t want to go down in a blaze of chintzy irony, plunging into a ravine strapped into the passenger seat of a thing called the Immortality Bus.

Isn't it ironic that being immortal would reveal the fool's errand of immortality?

It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life—if that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.

I think Ken should grow some balls and tell Barbie to piss off," Matt said after Ashley waved an accusing finger in Darren's (leg-puppy) face, then stomped off to a table beside a window.

I think that, when I die, it might be some time until I know it.

I think of the five generations it will take before [Mr. Perfect]'s born, and I want to scream. I want someone now. I want someone who will look into my eyes and understand everything behind them.

I think there's a kind of desperate hope built into poetry now that one really wants, hopelessly, to save the world. One is trying to say everything that can be said for the things that one loves while there's still time.

It helps if you don’t think of them as human. More than one officer has called this job pest control.

It is by sharing their knowledge, skill and wealth that the wise turn mastery into art, kindness into reputation and, when they die, become immortal.

. . . it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn't touch.

It is an interesting concept, is it not- the idea of never aging? Would it appeal to you, to be rich, beautiful, and eternally young?" "I think everyone has a desire for perennial youth," I admitted, "but in the end, this is a Faustian, cautionary tale, about vanity and frivolity, and the dangers of trying to interfere with the basic laws of life and death. When I really think about it, I would not wish to be young for ever." "No? And why not?" "Because I would be obliged to watch everyone I loved grow old and die." "What if that were not the case? What if there was one person whom you loved deeply, with whom you could live on for ever, under the same terms?" I hesitated, then said: "Perhaps then it would prove agreeable, as long it did not involve selling my soul to the Devil.

It is difficult to want to tell a grave that it is not immortal. It's so obvious at that point.

It slowly dawns on me what it is, the sensation that has bridged the gap between how I saw the world yesterday and how I see it today. It compensates for my lost keenness and even makes everything around me a little brighter. Hope.

It is odd that the Bible says, ‘God created man,’ whereas it is the other way round: man has created God. It is odd that the Bible says, ‘The body is mortal, the soul is immortal,’ whereas even here the contrary is true: the body (its matter) is eternal; the soul (the form of the body) is transitory.

It's amazing that a man who is dead can talk to people through these pages. As long as this books survives, his ideas live.

It seems to me that there are three principal scales of time, the present moment, a human lifetime, and the eternal. The problem with modern man is not so much that he situates himself in the future of a human lifetime, since he fears death far too much to do that, but rather than he does not situate himself in any of these three scales of time. Instead, he is forever stuck somewhere in-between, this evening, tomorrow morning, next week, next Christmas, in five years’ time. As a result, he has neither the joy of the present moment, nor the satisfied accomplishments of a human lifetime, nor the perspective and immortality of the eternal.

It is not a sin, he tells himself, there is no sin left now, there is only the blood and the water and the ice; there is only life and death and the gray-green spaces in between. He will not die, he tells himself, not now, not ever. When he is thirsty, he will drink his own blood; when he is hungry, he will eat his own flesh. He will grow enormous from the feasting, he will expand to fill the empty sky.

It is permissible even for a dying hero to think before he dies how men will speak of him hereafter. His fame lasts perhaps two thousand years. And what are two thousand years? (asked Mr Ramsay ironically, staring at the hedge). What, indeed, if you look from a mountain top down the long wastes of the ages? The very stone one kicks with one’s boot will outlast Shakespeare.

It's amazing how once the mind is free of emotional pollution, logic and clarity emerge.

It’s the reality of life that the body will expire one day. Death for the body is inevitable, but you are not that body nor your old body. Tell me, can the eyes of a dead body see? Can the mouth of a dead body talk?

It turns out horrendous when you choose the wrong options.

It took courage to live an immortal life and not close off your heart and mind to any new experiences or new people. Because that which was new was almost always temporary. And that which was temporary broke your heart.

I turn on my side and study the beam close to my head, next to the entrance. There are names scratched in the wood, some deep and some barely visible. Davis, I read. Rodríguez. Eames. One that could be Hicks, or maybe Ricks. Why do they carve their names, when only strangers will read them? A name is only a meaningless word with nothing to attach it to. Maybe it is enough just to be remembered, if only for your name; here is proof of life, faceless and voiceless but unmistakable. Immortality of a strange sort: a eulogy in wood.