Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
You will always be here with me; As long as I live, A towering figure of love.
Death is the second oldest of the Endless. It's hard not to love her. She loves you, after all.
Leave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time.
Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years.
I want to leave something behind. A blueprint. A work ethic. Something that my great-grandkids and their kids and their kids can see: This is where it started. Lineage. Intergenerational wealth. Things that are here forever. All that.
Mind you, the limelight exists anywhere in the world. When you're not in the U.K., it can be as active somewhere else in the world, and for me, that's more or less been the case, so I never dropped out of the limelight in that sense.
If I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers centers of what I am of what remains.
In Alexander's life there was one thread that could not be broken by death, by distance, by time, by war. Could not be broken. As long as I am in the world, she said with her breath and her body, as long as I am, you are permanent, soldier.
The United States will not be in Afghanistan forever.
That, for me, is the only real legacy: the idea that one has left a lingering trace in people's memories. In the end, that's all a director can hope to do.
I don't care why they love me, as long as they love me. I think people respect me because they feel like - I'm kind of like Christmas. I come back every year. You can't get rid of me. I just keep coming back.
I didn't come after Elvis and Dylan, I've been around always. But if I see or meet a great artist, I love 'em.
It sure is a nice feeling to know that people will remember you after you're gone, that you'll manage to be a little bit of history.
Mickey Mouse... is always there-he's part of my life. That really is something not everyone can call their claim to fame.
We are small but we are many We are many we are small We were here before you rose We will be here when you fall
Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies.
Will you be?” I asked, suddenly anxious. “Will you really be here?” “As long as you want me,” he assured me. “I'll always want you,” I warned him. “Forever.
When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
I can't make it fade.
The lights of stars that were extinguished ages ago still reaches us. So it is with great men who died centuries ago, but still reach us with the radiations of their personalities.
If dying, I yet live in a tender heart or two; nor am I lost and hopeless living, if a sainted departed soul still loves and prays for me.
Shakespeare again. Once you let him into your head, he takes up tenancy and will not leave.
Dead people don't really die. They live on within you.
As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.
