Quotes About Remembrance

The Holocaust movie is almost a genre in itself these days.

The Holocaust story has been told and retold so many times.

Holocaust films will be made and should be made as long as we can't understand what makes people so cruel to each other.

I always, always have the Holocaust on my mind.

The truth about the Holocaust must not die.

In their greatest hour of need, the world failed the people of Rwanda.

Flash of Marian, now bones in a coffin, a white satin ribbon wrapped around dried blonde curls, like some bouquet gone stale.

Ya ves qué tontería, me gusta escribir tu nombre, llenar papeles con tu nombre, llenar el aire con tu nombre; decir a los niños tu nombre, escribir a mi padre muerto y contarle que te llamas así. Me creo que siempre que lo digo me oyes. Me creo que da buena suerte. Voy por las calles tan contenta y no llevo encima más que tu nombre.

Reminiscences of old, dried-over pains were no consolation in the face of this. They had the effect of cold beads of water on a hot iron - they danced and fizzled up while the room stank from their steam.

Childhood was the germ of all mistrust. You were cruelly joked upon and then you cruelly joked. You lost the remembrance of pain through inflicting it.

Feeling her against me, I was reminded of desire. Would that always be the case now—not desire, but only the reminder of it?

He was a man one always forgot. To this day I cannot describe him, except his fatness and his powdered clean-shaven cheeks and his big laugh; all his identity escapes me - except that he was called Joe. There are some men whose names are always shortened.

It seemed odd that a man's smell should cling in the folds of a curtain so long after the man himself had become dead matter, a gas, a decay.

No man lives forever and even as memory fades, so too will any remembrance of him.

And though, indeed, it only happened once, it's gone on happening, the way unique and momentous things do, for ever and ever, as long as there's a memory for them to happen in …

And, like a mother to herself, she would never forget that girl on a bicycle, though she would never mention her to anyone, never breathe a word.

We should be covered into the earth by people who loved us.

I've seen a lot of men on the south side of twenty die for no reason at all. Shot or mortared out of a clear blue sky, some times by their own side. I've heard them screaming in the back of my chopper with no hope of getting to a field hospital in time. And they don't scream to God, Doc. They don't scream to Daddy, either. They scream to Mama. Because they know Mama loved them more than anyone else ever could. More than even God, if there is one.

The Germans have national amnesia where the war is concerned.

She's gone, yes. She'll live on in the people who loved her.

A Union soldier recalled the Confederate dead along Cemetery Ridge: No words can depict the ghastly picture…the men lay in heaps, the wounded wriggling and groaning under the weight of the dead among whom they were entangled….I could not long endure the gory, ghastly spectacle. I found my head reeling, the tears flowing and my stomach sick at the sight. For months the specter haunted my dreams…

There is a word for such exercises we Germans do," Canaris said. "Vergangenheitsbewältigung—coming to terms with the past." Karl

You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart, a wound that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.

Forget us, forget us all, it makes no difference now, but don't forget we loved it when we were alive.