Quotes About Remembrance

Those who remember, remembered live on; those who forget, forgotten are gone.

Do you know what the people will say about this day thousands of years from now? What they will say about these creatures and their valiant last stand? Nothing... because we will not tell them. Oblivion is all there is for--

For you to die, you would have to be forgotten and no one forgets a founder of a nation.

Every single zom, every man, woman and child, no matter how decayed or how frightening they are, no matter how dangerous they are—they were all once real people. They had names, and lives, and personalities, and families. They had dreams and goals. They had pasts and they thought they had futures, but something came and took that away from them.

the saddest thing about being the only one left to tell a story is everybody who cares to listen is gone.

Since Hiroshima and the Holocaust, science no longer holds its pristine place as the highest moral authority. Instead, that role is taken by human rights. It follows that any assault on Jewish life - on Jews or Judaism or the Jewish state - must be cast in the language of human rights.

Unlike the Greeks, we believe that the dead are beyond harm, so we need often overlook the toxic residue left behind by disrespectful treatment of enemy dead.

This is what the Problem means," he went on. "This is the effect it has. Lives lost, loved ones taken before their time. And then we hide our dead behind iron walls and leave them to the thorns and ivy. We lose them twice over, Lucy. Death's not the worst of it. We turn our faces away.

he'd continue to cry passionately, long after he'd forgotten why he was crying to begin with.

If you could remember every last time, you'd never stop grieving.

When I'm Gone Just Carry On

On the eve of the Second World War, almost ten million Jews had lived in Europe; by the mid 1990s less than two million remained.3 After the war, Jewry practically ceased to exist in Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania, Germany and Austria, the countries that had been its main centres.

They picked up all of the Jews from our very small town. They froze to death in the railway cars. You could see that? My father was standing watch there. They unloaded them afterward as corpses.

She was trying to free her mother, who had recently been deported to Auschwitz. The lawyer responded bluntly, "You can file a petition, but you will not see your mother again. Auschwitz is an extermination camp." When she received notification of her mother's death a few months later—"died of sepsis and phlegm in Auschwitz"—she considered this plausible. "Later, I found out that it was just one of many death notices issued on that day.

Gassed. They were killed, and soap was made from the bones. The people were nothing more than that. Wasn't it especially dangerous to talk about that? It wasn't dangerous.

Paula Bonhoeffer had memorized an impressive repertoire of poems, hymns, and folk songs, which she taught her children, who remembered them into their old age.

There is power in remembrance, recalling, and memorial celebration.

Honer and self sacrifice. Death does not diminish these qualities in a soldier. We shall remember.

Maybe I should have been more appreciative of what we did have together. Sometimes I ask myself what gave me the right to judge him? Did I do what I could in this marriage? So many questions and so few answers. But I guess I will have lots of time to think about them. Lots of time to reminisce. Lots of loneliness.

Commenting on the return of Descartes' remains to his native France, Jacobi remarks that "It is often more convenient to possess the ashes of great men than to possess the men themselves during their lifetime.

Erinnern das ist vielleicht die qualvollste Art des Vergessens und vielleicht die freundlichste Art der Linderung dieser Qual

He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front. He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.

Kill me. Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won.

I will never forget you, Hollyleaf.