Quotes About Forgotten

Arta de a divaga – È™i a r?mâne totuÈ™i în veÈ™nicie – mi se pare un secret pe care majoritatea modernilor l-au uitat

What was my first word? I asked him, and he said: Don't. I asked him what my second word was but he couldn't remember. I think I'd have made something up if I was him. Like go.

What do people fear most about death? I asked the reb. Fear? he thought for a moment. 'Well, for one thing, what happens next? Where do we go? Is it what we imagined? That's big. Yes. But there's something else. What else? He leaned forward. Being forgotten, he whispered.

The second death. To think that you died and no one would remember you.

I thought about him now and then, the things he had taught me about 'being human' and 'relating to others;, but it was always in the distance, as if from another life.. .. The people who might have told me were long forgotten, their phone numbers buried in some packed-away box in the attic.

I realise, two decades after the events of this book, that deep inside it was not dying that truly rattled Morrie. it was being forgotten.

How is it that a little incident like this suddenly comes back to one, whereas something that moved one deeply at the time can simply be forgotten with the passage of the years?

Ti amo, Madame Escoffier.» «Ci sono state delle volte in cui l'hai dimenticato.» Non replicò nulla. Era vero e lo sapevano entrambi. «Essere dimenticati è la cosa più triste al mondo», affermò lei.

I had forgotten to fear him, from too much time spent too close.

She'd remembered the wrong things, and forgotten too much. She'd remembered how to kill and how to hate, and she'd forgotten how to grow.

Recordaba lo que no debía, y había olvidado demasiado. Recordaba cómo matar y cómo odiar, y se le había olvidado cómo crecer.

I thought about enduring. Maybe losers get to be taken care of! The truth is we were so wronged and so forgotten we had to become heroes to survive at all.

I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.

The awakening to serious, sober consciousness, was genuinely shocking. I had forgotten I was a man! The sadness of such an irreconcilable situation was so intense that I wept.

I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever. I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by worlds and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the library seemed to be losing its memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

Me sentí rodeado de millones de páginas abandonadas, de universos y almas sin dueño, que se hundían en un océano de oscuridad mientras el mundo que palpitaba fuera de aquellos muros perdía la memoria sin darse cuenta día tras día, sintiéndose más sabio cuanto más olvidaba.

That's what happens when people reach old age; nobody remembers they've been bastards too.

The memories we bury under mountains of silence are the ones that never stop haunting us.

I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by words and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the Library seemed to be losing it´s memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

Ignatius B. Samson, welcome to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever.

Alicia, welcome back to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

Un vincle de silenci i mirades els unica en les ombres d'aquella casa, al final d'un carrer oblidat, on es tenien cura l'un de l'altre, lluny del món.

We are doomed to remember what never really happened.