Quotes About Remember

I used to think truth was eternal, that once I knew, once I saw, it would be with me forever, a constant by which everything else could be measured. I know now that this isn't so, that most truths are inherently unretainable, that we have to work hard all our lives to remember the most basic things. Society is no help. It tells us again and again that we can most be ourselves by acting and looking like someone else...

One has a few moments that are tolerable--one breathes,as it were,again;one remembers things,but one hardly hopes.I hope for the New Age-that is all-which will cure all our woes,and give us new ones,and make us happy enough for death....

All you have to do is open yourself up to the cosmos as it lays itself before you. See it in all its mysterious dimensions. Without prejudice. Without assumption... All you ever needed was the key to open yourself to it. And that key is the wonder of the world. All the songs you could never remember but couldn't forget? You can find them now.

In art, either as creators or participators, we are helped to remember some of the glorious things we have forgotten, and some of the terrible things we were asked to endure...

It seemed that a woman should remember the night a new life began inside her. Such a miracle should not be the result of routine or an ordinary coming together. Life should begin in a cataclysm of heat and fury bathed in the sweat of passion and urgency.

Eriugena and other Celtic teachers speak of Christ as our memory, as the one who leads us to our deepest identity, as the one who remembers the song of our beginnings .

I made a promise to myself: I would always remember my parents' wishes, but I would never forget myself.

I made a promise to myself: I would always remember my parents' wishes, but I would not forget myself.

Y me hice una promesa: siempre recordaría los deseos de mis padres, pero jamas me olvidaría de mi misma.

I've often thought of loss as a kind of language. Once learned, it's never forgotten. I learned the language of loss when I was ten, and still know it to this day. There have been times when I wished I had a scar or a mark, a visible sign of the pain I still feel over Daddy's death and Carter's. It would be easier, in a way, if people knew without my having to say anything that I am not whole, that part of me died long ago.

I don't want these memories to become slippery, to just disappear into the thin air of life the way most things seem to. I want them to stick – even the bad ones – so I repeat them often.

I don't want these memories to become slippery, to disapper into the thin air of life the way most things seem to. I want them to stick- even the bad ones-so I repeat them often.

I'd wanted a real kiss, something to remember, but i'd long ago learned not to be picky with farewells. They weren't guaranteed or promised.You were lucky, more than blessed, if you got a goodbye at all.

Lost means forever, it's gone. But misplaced... that means it's still around, somewhere.

let those who have abundance remember that they are surrounded with thorns, and let them take great care not to be pricked by them; and let those who have little and are very much hemmed in know that God planned [their poverty] to keep them from evil and hurtful snares.

After many trials the God and his love end happily—tho' not all remember this conclusion—which is less memorable than the moment when everything was lost. Happy endings are all alike; disasters may be unique.

Therefore, Ecclesiastes advises us to remember our Creator, which will equip us to go through the losses of our later years well. How simple yet how profound is that advice!

Memory and forgetfulness are as life and death to one another. To live is to remember and to remember is to live. To die is to forget and to forget is to die.

One writes to memorialize, and to bring to life again that which has been lost.

Sorrow has its life just like people. Sorrow is born and lives and dies. And when it's dead and gone, someone's left behind to remember it. Exactly like people.

It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that is purloined.

he asked who, and what manner of men, the Athenians were. And when he had been told, he called for his bow; and, having taken it, and placed an arrow on the string, he let the arrow fly towards heaven; and as he shot it into the air, he said, 'O Supreme God! grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athenians.' And when he had said this, he appointed one of his servants to say to him every day as he sat at meat, 'Sire, remember the Athenians.

Everything belongs to God. Here is the wisdom children already know and adults struggle to remember. Nothing is ours. A bitter pill for those who pursue the world, but a sweet remedy for those who desire freedom above all else.

Love, justice, sincerity, and respect become the password of your inward and outward life, always remember that; otherwise, you cannot log in, accurately your life.