Quotes About Forgotten

These people picked you up and played with you and then left you lying in the rain

Don't you let them forget about you," she said. But this was not about being forgotten. This was about being in a file cabinet with my name on it and they closed the door. I was a corpse with a tag on my toe.

Her name was Lost. Her name was Nobody's Daughter.

this was not about being forgotten. This was about being in a file cabinet with my name on it and they closed the door. I was a corpse with a tag on my toe. A

My bedroom was filled with reading material: books salvaged from dustbins, books borrowed from friends, books with missing pages, books found in the street, abandoned, unreadable, torn, scribbled on, unloved, unwanted and dismissed. My bedroom was the Battersea Dogs' Home of books.

Throughout his work, Philip Levine's most powerful commitment has been to the failed and lost, the marginal, the unloved, the unwanted.

I used to wear the German shirt with such pride and excitement, but now I don't. I feel unwanted and think that what I have achieved since my international debut in 2009 has been forgotten.

If anyone should be executed, it should be Charles Manson. Do I go around during the daytime, 'Geez, I'm upset that he's alive'? No, I don't even think about him. I don't think about this case.

We have become so engrossed in the work of the Lord that we have forgotten the Lord of the work.

I fought some guy who looked like Steven Seagal, some aikido guy or something. The fight's not even on my record, I don't remember his name. My dad was there at the fight and he said he blinked and he missed the fight, so I think I finished him fast or something. I forgot all about that fight.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.

Work is the order of the day, just as it was at one time, with our first starts and our best efforts. Do you remember? Therein lies its delight. It brings back the forgotten; one's stores of energy, seemingly exhausted, come back to life.

There are usually three reasons that promises aren't kept: They are forgotten, abandoned, or undervalued.

She thought little of her ordeal. Cruelty was part of nature, like a winter frost; something to be survived and then forgotten (p.689)

I think you two forgot how to love each other, and that's just like poison. Worst thing you can do is forgot how to love someone.

Maybe they don't forget you, they just forget to remember you. I don't think people mean to forget.

Sometimes memory is like a dream. The worst nightmares are forgotten. Sometimes living is a nightmare. Just getting up, meeting your neighbors, and walking down the street.

If it took Labouchere three columns to prove that I was forgotten, then there is no difference between fame and obscurity.

It is always twilight in one's cell, as it is always twilight in one's heart. And in the sphere of thought, no less than in the sphere of time, motion is no more. The thing that you personally have long ago forgotten, or can easily forget, is happening to me now, and will happen to me again to-morrow.

Las emociones de las personas que se ha dejado de amar siempre tienen algo de ridículo.

The boy is of an outspoken disposition, and had made an opprobrious remark respecting my personal appearance. What did he say about your appearance? I have forgotten, sir, said Jeeves, with a touch of austerity. But it was opprobrious.

He was a tubby little chap who looked as if he had been poured into his clothes and forgotten to say 'when'!

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain. I love you still among these cold things. Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels that cross the sea towards no arrival. I see myself forgotten like those old anchors. The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there. My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. But night comes and starts to sing to me.

I love all things, not because they are passionate or sweet-smelling but because, I don't know, because this ocean is yours, and mine: these buttons and wheels and little forgotten treasures, fans upon whose feathers love has scattered its blossoms, glasses, knives and scissors -- all bear the trace of someone's fingers on their handle or surface, the trace of a distant hand lost in the depths of forgetfulness.