Quotes About Forgotten

She supposed that there were some things, some lost things, some things that could never be recovered, that would always be regretted; mourned; grieved over.

Late into the night, I heard their wild music, music that didn't care who was in bed wanting to sleep. I knew the Gypsies were dancing, so lost in happiness that they forgot they lived in a gloomy Communist state.

My life is like a lone, forgotten Q-Tip in the second-to-last drawer.

Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.

Can I dwell on what I scarce remember? I held a castle on the Marches once, and there was a woman I was pledged to marry, but I could not find that castle today, nor tell you the color of that woman's hair. Who knighted me, old friend? What were my favorite foods? It all fades. Sometimes I think I was born on the bloody grass in that grove of ash, with the taste of fire in my mouth and a hole in my chest. Are you my mother, Thoros?

I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. "Pray for me, if you like," he told his cousin. "I forgotten all the words.

But the world preferred to forget that men who knew how to heal also knew how to kill.

All the world knew that a maester forged his silver link when he learned the art of healing—but the world preferred to forget that men who knew how to heal also knew how to kill.

I dreamed... in the black of night a man asks all the questions he dare not ask by daylight. For me, the past years, only one question has remained. Why would the gods take my eyes and my strength, yet condemn me to linger on so long, frozen and forgotten? What use could they have for an old done man like me? ... I remember, Sam. I still remember. Remember what? Dragons, Aemon whispered.

Perhaps magic was once a mighty force in the world, but no longer. What little remains is no more than the wisp of smoke that lingers in the air after a great fire has burned out, and even that is fading. Valyria was the last ember, and Valyria is gone. The dragons are no more, the giants are dead, the children of the forest forgotten with all their lore.

it felt as if they had all died while he had slept...or perhaps (He) died, and they had forgotten him.

I know I want you," he heard himself say, all his vows and his honor all forgotten.

Ten years a wold, and you land here and think to prince about the islands, but you know nothing and no one. Why should men fight and die for you?'' ''I am their lawful prince,'' Theon said stiffly. ''By the laws of the green lands, you might be. But we make our own laws here, or have you forgotten?

We've changed kins since then, some of us twice. No one cares, no one remembers.

He stopped suddenly, put his hand to his throat for a few minutes with his features fixed in a kind of stupid, hopeless searching look. Then his face brightened a little in spite of the anguish which he had doubtlessly forgotten.

Gabito would say later that he had no memory of his mother. She had left him before he could retain any memories at all.

Well, there are all of the names you would recognize - Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, Tom Paine, Paul Revere. There are over three hundred of us, actually. I wish all were as well known to this generation as the others. Every one played a part - along with thousands of others whose names are no in any history books.

The forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid.

That which we remember of our conduct is ignored by our closest neighbour; but that which we have forgotten having said, or even what we never said, will cause laughter even into the next world.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

May I forget what ought to be forgotten; and recall, unfailing, all that ought to be recalled, each kindly thing, forgetting what might sting.

No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, love.

Luella Clark, April Days, 1904

Never can that be told, for those who saw and lived through it have lost the gift of words and those who are dead can tell no tales. Those were things which are not told, but forgotten. Fore where they not forgotten, how could they ever be repeated?