A Quote by Marcus Aurelius

What we do now echoes in eternity. — © Marcus Aurelius
What we do now echoes in eternity.

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All that is not eternal is eternally out of date. C. S. LEWIS, The Four Loves Life is short. Eternity is long. BENTLEY LITTLE, His Father's Son What we do now echoes in eternity.
Eternity isn't some later time. Eternity isn't a long time. Eternity has nothing to do with time. Eternity is that dimension of here and now which thinking and time cuts out. This is it. And if you don't get it here, you won't get it anywhere. And the experience of eternity right here and now is the function of life.
Brothers, what we do in life........echoes in eternity.
I'm just tired of everything…even of the echoes. There is nothing in my life but echoes…echoes of lost hopes and dreams and joys. They're beautiful and mocking.
Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.
Eternity! How know we but we stand On the precipitous and crumbling verge Of Time e'en now, Eternity below?
Eternity is not future or past. Eternity is a dimension of now.
What we do with Him now, we will be for all eternity. In His eternity He came to die our death and give us His eternity. His eternity requires no sun or moon or seasons or days. His is an eternal day without time. He is the Light. He is the source of all our needs. In Him is no darkness. As we have the light of the sun, we can also have the light of the Son. One provides for the natural, One for the spiritual.
“You may have eternity. I have only now.” “But this is eternity.”
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
I have sometimes sat alone here of an evening, listening, until I have made the echoes out to be the echoes of all the footsteps that are coming by and by into our lives. "Jerry, say that my answer was, 'RECALLED TO LIFE.
Slumbering in every human being lies an infinity of possibilities, which one must not arouse in vain. For it is terrible when the whole man resonates with echoes and echoes, none becoming a real voice.
One instant is eternity; eternity is the now.
Looking forward into an empty year strikes one with a certain awe, because one finds therein no recognition. The years behind have a friendly aspect, and they are warmed by the fires we have kindled, and all their echoes are the echoes of our own voices.
What a wretched thing is all fame! A renown of the highest sort endures, say, for two thousand years. And then? Why, then, a fathomless eternity swallows it. Work for eternity; not the meagre rhetorical eternity of the periodical critics, but for the real eternity wherein dwelleth the Divine.
Where we find echoes, we generally find emptiness and hollowness; it is the contrary with the echoes of the heart.
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