Quotes About Forgotten

She cleared her throat once or twice, and said something about poor people should eat a lot of herrings, as they were most nutritious, also she had heard poor people eat heaps of sheeps' heads and she went on to ask if I ever cooked them. I said I would rather be dead than cook or eat a sheep's head; I'd seen them in butchers' shops with awful eyes and bits of wool sticking to their skulls. After that helpful hints for the poor were forgotten.

She came to a little wrecked pleasure-steamer, which had become embedded in the mud several summers ago and which no one had bothered to remove. It had been a vulgar, tubby little boat when it used to steam through the water with its handful of holiday-makers, giving shrill whistles at every bend and causing a wash that disturbed the fishermen as they sat peacefully on the banks; but, now it lay sideways in the mud with its gaudy paint all bleached, it was almost beautiful.

I began to feel frightened and depressed, and thought, 'This is my punishment for being an adulteress.' Then I remembered I was even poorer before I was one, so perhaps it was a punishment for something I had forgotten.

Everywhere in the house there were sad little reminders—a limp string shopping-bag hanging from the kitchen door; a fortune-telling book in the dresser-drawer; a fern in the dining-room window that had died from neglect since she had ceased to tend it; and one small black glove mixed up with the string she used to save—little things like that were everywhere.

Authority seems to be nothing other than the vanishing-point of textuality. And Nature is authority whose textual origins have been forgotten.

Like this cemetery, she was old and dry and what she had once been or even later represented had begun to slip from memory.

I'm not teaching you anything you don't already know somewhere deep within your being. Your genetic systems are encoded with this knowledge. My role is to awaken you to what you have simply forgotten along the way.

We can know what love is. It´s adults who have forgotten, so they cling to their poor substitute and yell at kids who dare to live with real love. Pure Love. Love without compromise or distraction.

I'm beneath notice. As it should be. [...] then I'm gone as if I've never been here. And soon, it will be as though I never were. I am going to join Lola in the memory hole. It is my proper place. It is where I deserve to be consigned. [...] Once she forgets me, maybe then she can remember. And that, more than anything, will count as me doing something productive.

Another year down. Ten years. No one said anything. No one ever says anything. Nothing online. Nothing in the Sunday edition of the "Lowe County times"--"the Loco"--that Mom still has delivered every week. Memory holes are efficient.

God is the one who always remembers those whom history has forgotten.

Shelved around us lie the mummied authors.

Eleanor Rigby Died in the church and was buried along with her name Nobody came Father McKenzie Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave No one was saved

Now, one can often get away with playing music by ear when it is not being recorded, but writing is another matter; its mistakes are not forgotten because they are still there to confuse us.

My earliest memory is my parents forgetting my fourth birthday. My dad looked up from reading the paper and went, 'Oh my God!' So we went out, and I chose a red scooter.

Has God forgotten all I have done for Him.

For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

The past was erased, the erasure was forgotten, the lie became the truth.

Jack London)"He was an adventurer and a man of action as few writers have ever been . . . the excellence of his short stories has been almost forgotten.

The dead men had become martyrs and their degradation was forgotten

Posterity will never hear of you. You will be lifted clean out from the stream of history. We shall turn you into gas and pour you into the stratosphere. Nothing will remain of you; not a name in a register, not a memory in a living brain. You will be annihilated in the past as well as in the future. You will never have existed.

He would read King Lear and forget this filthy century.

He had dragged out from the corners of his memory some more fragments of forgotten rhymes.

What a stupid thing to say!' remarked Sophy. 'Naturally there are, but not, I hold, when one is dressing for dinner. Who is she?' 'Miss Wraxton: Charles is betrothed to her, and Mama sent to warn me a few minutes ago that she is dining here tonight. We had all of us forgotten it in the bustle of your arrival.