Quotes About Forgotten

Kill if you will, but command me nothing!' the gunslinger roared. 'You have forgotten the faces of those who made you!

When the cobwebs and dust pile up, all the musty thoughts and forgotten emotions get caught in their webs and attract spirits and all sorts of chaotic energy.

Once in a while I get an email from someone I have met briefly. "You may not remember me," these emails often begin, the hope to be remembered expressed by the acceptance of having already been forgotten.

The boy will remain a son and never become a father. He will be forgotten by the crowd once his blood is rinsed clean from the ground; his sister will think of him but soon she will forget him, too. He will live on only in Han's memory, a child punished not for his own insincerity but someone else's disbelief.

To be forgotten was a defeat. To be doomed to remember someone was a defeat, too.

How could you have thought of suicide when you have people you love? How could you have forgotten those who love you? These questions were asked, again and again. But love is the wrong thing to question. One does not will oneself to love; one does not kill oneself because one ceases to love. The difficulty is that love erases: the more faded one becomes, the more easily one loves.

That would be hard. Ties are to be severed... not forgotten.

Avanzamos entre las víctimas sin recibir una mirada, ni siquiera de reproche. Se nos ignoraba. Simplemente por no haber compartido su desgracia, nuestra existencia había sido borrada de nuestras vidas. No éramos para ellos más que sombras.

Conventional, organized religion, in its most decadent form, is an inert parody of the genuine religious experience as much as modern occult organizations are degenerate parodies of forgotten religions.

He forgot all about the parchment written in blood, and didn't think of it again until six months later, when he came home to find that his parents had disappeared.

Not one sparrow is forgotten in the sight of God.

a lonely old man.

Out of all these sources of almost forgotten oral history, I have tried to fashion a narrative of the conquest of the American West as the victims experienced it, using their own words whenever possible

Their musical names remained forever fixed on the American land, but their bones were forgotten in a thousand burned villages or lost in forests fast disappearing before the axes of twenty million invaders.

Just as in life, frustration leads to bitterness, and anger destroys the capacity for joy. It's through tiny losses more than big ones that we have all forgotten the innocence of leela.

History will be erased in the universal purgatory.

So what about Vengeous? Is he bad news?" "The worst. I don't think he's ever forgotten the time I threw a bundle of dynamite at him. It didn't kill him, obviously, but it definitely ruined his day." "Is he all scarred now?" "Magic gets rid of most physical scars, but I like to think that I scarred him emotionally.

She's actually a friend of yours... Myosotis Terra. And you wouldn't know, actually. Or to be precise, you wouldn't remember. - Skulduggery (Myosotis Terra)

We will reform legal immigration to serve the best interests of America and its workers, the forgotten people. Workers. We're going to take care of our workers.

Better not to think of people living here, of it being empty Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and yet now you want someone to remember, to understand what was lost, even if it was little enough.

The beetles Wick altered, or made from materials he'd stolen from the Company, didn't just teach when shoved in your ear; they could also rid you of memories and add memories. People who couldn't face the present shoved them into their ears so they could experience someone else's happier memories from long ago, from places that didn't exist anymore.

During my formative years, my mother had this annoying habit of taking me into shoe stores and forgetting all about me.

Down in the cellar, under a stair Covered with cobwebs Nobody cares Withered and pale forgotten it seems That's where i hide them, Yesterday's dreams. Shake out the memories, blow off the dust Smooth out the wrinkles Rub off the rust Remember the times they sparkled so bright Far out of sight Down in the cellar, under a stair Covered with cobwebs Nobody cares Withered and pale, forgotten it seems That's where I hide them, Yesterday's dreams.

There is a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was.