Quotes About Forgetting

Sus cenizas volaron por el aire en una danza con el viento, en un feliz encuentro entre el olvido y el recuerdo

Forgetting is the precious balm that helps us to travel on, past the depredations of memory.

Kes suudab elada, ilma et unustaks? Aga kes suudab küllalt unustada? Mälestuste Å¡lakk, mis südant rebestab. Alles siis, kui sul enam midagi ei ole, mille nimel elada, oled vaba.

M?su nol?d?t? atmi?a ir siets. T? grib izdz?vot. Un izdz?vot var tikai aizmirstot.

This habit of getting used to things is the reason that we seem to forget so quickly.

and Mary with her wonderful memory for forgetting was happy too and without any problems. She could forget in the loveliest and most complete way of anyone I ever knew. She could carry a fight overnight but at the end of week she could forget it completely and truly. She had a built-in selective memory and it was not built entirely in her favor. She forgave herself in her memory and she forgave you too. She was a very strange girl and I loved her very much.

The summer remembers nothing of the winter and nature is a kind of amnesia.

La memoria es frágil y eso es una bendición, el tiempo va perdiendo todo en sus espejos.

For once a thing is known, it can never be unknown. It can only be forgotten.

I did the searching and remembering, she did the disappearing and the forgetting.

When you remembered to forget, you were remembering. It was when you forgot to forget that you forgot.

What God effects in the reconciliation does the work of forgetting without the danger of forgetting. He does better than forget: he remembers our evil in grace as the only read thing it ever could have been. He takes away the flaming sword between us and our self-knowledge, and brings us home to ourselves.

But if I can cheat my heart with the old comfort, that love can be forgotten, is it not better?

he'd wanted to keep a channel of communication open between himself and Charlotte, because he wanted to know she couldn't forget him, any more than he could forget her. It was time to cut that last, thin thread.

We are, paradoxically, unkind to the present, ignoring the opportunity to project it into the future, forgetting it as soon as it is past. As we would injure children by spoiling them, we injure time by being too attentive to its ephemera.

After loving you so much, can I forget you for eternity, and have no other choice?

That's what's so miraculous about the city: each person's bearing and behavior vanish among these thousand sorts, observations are fleeting, judgements swift, and forgetting inevitable.

Sometimes fear could be forgotten, but never for long.

She was in the book again and, by the time she got to page-turning time again, she'd forgetting I was there.

England for him was no longer a real place, but a consecrated isle in the lake of forgetting, where the God of the English still strode through an imaginary Eden, admiring His works.

There is an age at which we teach what we know. Then comes another age at which we teach what we do not know; this is called research. Now perhaps comes the age of another experience: that of unlearning, of yielding to the unforeseeable change which forgetting imposes on the sedimentation of the knowledges, cultures, and beliefs we have traversed.

went on, taking first one side and then the other, and making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen. 'Mary Ann! Mary Ann!' said the voice. 'Fetch me my gloves this moment!' Then came a little pattering of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had

It is the taste of forgetting. Of sleep and dreams with no waking. Never to long or yearn, to struggle or hurt or love or desire ever again. And I understand that this is what it truly means to lose your soul.

The land remembers everything, though. It knows the steps of this nation's ballet of violence and forgetting. The land receives our dead, and the dead sing softly the song of us: blood.