A Quote by Simon R. Green

After all, you’re only an immortal until someone manages to kill you. After that, you were just long-lived. — © Simon R. Green
After all, you’re only an immortal until someone manages to kill you. After that, you were just long-lived.
Nothing is impossible to kill. It's just that sometimes after you kill something you have to keep shooting it until it stops moving
I’ll spend my life training just for the moment I have my chance at you. I’ll wait until you think I’ve forgotten today. I’ll wait until you think it was just a dumb guild rat’s threat. After I’m a master, you’ll jump at shadows for a while. But after you jump a dozen times and I’m not there, you won’t jump just once, and that’s when I’ll be there. I don’t care if you kill me at the same time. I’ll trade my life for yours.
(Socrates) said there were only two possibilities. Either the soul is immortal or, after death, things would be again as blank as they were before we were born.
Palms are like cockroaches. They were here long before us, and they'll be here long after us. They're the only things standing after a hurricane.
No matter how famous and established they were or however blessed they were with great songs or long careers, if they lived alone, they lived alone. That's not the way I wanted to live prior to the tour or after.
...its a rather pleasant change when all your life you've had people looking after you, to have someone to look after yourself. Only of course it has to be someone pretty hopeless to need looking after by me.
I've never been a disciple of any school. I've lived too long. I've seen all the schools, I've seen people say, I'm sorry, Althusser was wrong after all. You can only do that about three times in your life; after that, you begin to feel like a fool!
I don't know where a poem comes from until after I've lived with it a long time. I've a notion that a poem comes from absolutely everything that every happened to you.
Let someone else take a crack at [your story]. Sometimes, even after time has passed, we're just too close to the thing. You don't want to kill your darlings or, maybe it's the opposite: you just want to kill all of it with cleansing fire. Let someone else confirm or veto your feelings. They'll also bring new questions and complexities to the table, too.
The dumbest women I hooked up with were in Florida. I lived in Florida for a year... and it was just shocking. I literally felt like after living there for a couple months that I had become stupider. It was unbelievable. If you read the stories on my site that are based around crazy women, about 75 percent of those women were in Florida? and I only lived there for a year.
It took a long time to get that film made. I went in for it almost right after or like maybe six or seven months after I had my son and actually auditioned for the Regina King part and they just were like, 'No, you're just - you just don't really seem the part.'
To remember love after long sleep; to turn again to poetry after a year in the market place, or to youth after resignation to drowsy and stiffening age; to remember what once you thought life could hold, after telling over with muddied and calculating fingers what it has offered; this is music, made after long silence. The soul flexes its wings, and, clumsy as any fledgling, tries the air again
From laboratories employing complex apparatus, poetry often emerges into the outside world after a long lapse of time, just as some scientific discoveries become common property only after they have entered the blood stream of the generations.
Immortal beings have been compared to stars, these are existences that linger on long after the death of the thing itself.
At the same time that you've got to open yourself up to the fact that experience is going to teach you year after year, decade after decade. I remember I very badly wanted to write a newspaper column when I was only 21 years old, and I went to my editor and told him that, and he said, "You're a really good writer, but you haven't lived long enough to be qualified to live out loud."
I suddenly had an idea of how adults can hold on to a feeling for very long periods of time, long after the event is finished, long after cards have been sent and apologies made and everyone else had moved on. Adults were pack rats of old, useless emotions
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