Quotes about forgetting

The good and the beautiful is not forgotten it lives in legend and in song.

I push him from my mind. This is no act of easy omission on my part I do not consign him casually to a forgotten past. It is rather an act of will--a kind of self-performed surgery on my soul...the bloodiest of mutilations.

Some things are not supposed to be forgotten these are the things which make us human.

It's painful to hold out hope for the things that once brought you joy. You have to find ways to make yourself forget.

When love comes easy, forgiving is hard and forgetting even harder.

And what part of me will beginTo forget you first; the suddenPains that shoot to my bruised palmsAs I think of you in the cover of the dark,Or the invisible handClutching at my heart, as it knocks against its savage cage,Or my still swollen lipsAs they remember the touch of your gentle fingertips?

When you don't grasp something or remember something, I think your mind at last says, "Okay," and part of it accepts this. In the end your mind gets to welcome that deadening. that's what I believe anyway. Half of our memoryloss is by choice.

There are some who believe that the mind is a blank tablet, on which experience is writ until the page be full, and the cryptic world is known; but I see rather that my own life hath been one long forgetting, the erasure of what was drawn, a terrible redaction; til all that remains is blank white and comfortless.I know not what we have been; I know not what we are; but I know what we might be.And so I light out for the unknown regions.

Tears sting my eyes once more, building up and rolling over my cheeks with the heat of a dying star. Isn’t that what death is? It’s forgetting. It’s letting go. We make peace with the dead to say goodbye.

The pain, or the memory of pain, that here was literally sucked away by something nameless until only a void was left. The knowledge that this question was possible: pain that turns finally into emptiness. The knowledge that the same equation applied to everything, more or less.

Everything started as nothing.

I’ve dreamed a lot. I’m tired now from dreaming but not tired of dreaming. No one tires of dreaming, because to dream is to forget, and forgetting does not weigh on us, it is a dreamless sleep throughout which we remain awake. In dreams I have achieved everything.

Instead of breaking or cherry-picking the rules, many just follow the inner rules, which have been instilled during their lifetime and have subtly permeated their thinking. They value rules, as it offers the ravishment of a securing, ceremonial rhythm in life and it prevents them from breaking free from their cocoon, all the more because freedom can be so scaring and exhausting. ("When forgetting the rules of the game" )

Oh, am I glad to know that after all these years it still is hard trying to unlove someone; if there's such a thing...

I don’t want to beone of those easily forgotten people, so important at the time, so special, soinfluential, and so treasured, yet years later just a vague face and a distantmemory.

We are all changed by this war, Soph. Daniel is your brother now that Rachel is ... gone. Truly your brother. And this baby, he or she is innocent of ... his or her creation.''It's hard to forget,' she said quietly. 'And I'll never forgive.''But love has to be stronger than hate, or there is no future for us.'Sophie sighed. 'I suppose,' she said, sounding too adult for a girl of he

Ignorance might be bliss. But self-forgetfulness is pure ecstasy.

To forgive is wisdom, to forget is genius. And easier. Because it's true. It's a new world every heart beat.

The impulse to tell the truth was not as great as the fear of being left off the page.

A stagecoach passed by on the road and went on;And the road didn’t become more beautiful or even more ugly.That’s human action on the outside world.We take nothing away and we put nothing back, we pass by and we forget;And the sun is always punctual every day.(5/7/14)

If you want to forget something or someone, never hate it, or never hate him/her. Everything and everyone that you hate is engraved upon your heart; if you want to let go of something, if you want to forget, you cannot hate.

You will find that it is necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy. So let them go, let go of them. I tie no weights to my ankles.

Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.

This time I wouldn't forget him, because I couldn't ever forgive him - for breaking my heart twice.

Do not allow me to forget you

Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion,

If pain must come, may it come quickly. Because I have a life to live, and I need to live it in the best way possible. If he has to make a choice, may he make it now. Then I will either wait for him or forget him.

Well, nowIf little by little you stop loving meI shall stop loving youLittle by littleIf suddenly you forget meDo not look for meFor I shall already have forgotten youIf you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my lifeAnd you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have rootsRememberThat on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my armsAnd my roots will set off to seek another land

The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.

Beauty exists not in what is seen and remembered, but in what is felt and never forgotten.

Life has a way of going in circles. Ideally, it would be a straight path forward––we'd always know where we were going, we'd always be able to move on and leave everything else behind. There would be nothing but the present and the future. Instead, we always find ourselves where we started. When we try to move ahead, we end up taking a step back. We carry everything with us, the weight exhausting us until we want to collapse and give up. We forget things we try to remember. We remember things we

Maybe if I forgot things once in a while, we'd all be a little bit happier.

The true definition of mental illness is when the majority of your time is spent in the past or future, but rarely living in the realism of NOW.

Like it takes so little not only to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.

Love, the exotic bird, came and went.Heart forgot love.Joy, the majestic willow, wept and died.Mind forgot joy.Hope, the basement lamp, fell and broke.Soul forgot hope.Self, the anxious caterpillar, took flight and dropped.Self forgot self.You, my all, became all my reasons.Reasons left.You left.I never forgot.

There is nothing new except what has been forgotten.

Saying that you do not remember something or someone is a less embarrassing or hurtful way of saying that you do not know it or them anymore.

Their message will never be decoded, not only because there is no key to it, but also because people have no patience to listen to it in an age when the accumulation of messages old and new is such that their voices cancel one another out. Today history is no more than a thin thread of the remembered stretching over an ocean of the forgotten, but time moves on, and an epoch of millennia will come which the inextensible memory of the individual will be unable to encompass; whole centuries and mil

Their message will never be decoded… because people have no patience to listen to it in an age when the accumulation of messages old and new is such that their voices cancel one another out. Today history is no more than a thin thread of the remembered stretching over an ocean of the forgotten, but time moves on, and an epoch of millennia will come which the inextensible memory of the individual will be unable to encompass; whole centuries and millennia will therefore fall away, centuries of pai

For some, excavating the past isn’t an adventure, it’s more akin to tearing a Band-Aid off an open wound.

We seem to live in a world where forgetting and oblivion are an industry in themselves and very, very few people are remotely interested or aware of their own recent history, much less their neighbors'. I tend to think we are what we remember, what we know. The less we remember, the less we know about ourselves, the less we are. (Interview with Three Monkeys Online, October 2008)

I was delighted to see you again, and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting.

In India they tell a fable about this: There was once a great devotee of Vishnu who prayed night and day to see his God. One night his wish was granted and Vishnu appeared to him. Falling on his knees, the devotee cried out, "I will do anything for you, my Lord, just ask.""How about a drink of water?" Vishnu replied.Although surprised by the request, the devotee immediately ran to the river as fast as his legs could carry him. When he got there and knelt to dip up some water, he saw a beautiful

Without forgetting it is quite impossible to live at all.

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or making the memories insignificant. Healing means refocusing

As he spoke, I had the mental image of a small boy switching on the nightlight, not because he wants to be able to find his parents during the night, but because he fears his parents will forget him - lose him - in the dark.

We gonna be a family again in Heaven. It takes some strong patience, but the Lord will come through. And as long as we here, we can get on living by never forgetting. Never forgetting and always remembering.

And when suddenlythe god stopped her and, with anguish in his cry,uttered the words: ‘He has turned round’ –she comprehended nothing and said softly: ‘Who?

Then one morning she’d begun to feel her sorrow easing, like something jagged that had cut into her so long it had finally dulled its edges, worn itself down. That same day Rachel couldn’t remember which side her father had parted his hair on, and she’d realized again what she’d learned at five when her mother left – that what made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting the small things first, the smell of the soap her mother had bathed with, the color o

Pronaci cemo se.Onda kada i vreme zaboravi na nas.Pronaci ces me negde u sebi,tu gde se krijes iza laznih i prolaznih ociju.

Sometimes one has to know something many times over. Sometimes one forgets, and then remembers. And then forgets, and then remembers. And then forgets again.

When we respond to our pain and suffering with love, understanding, and acceptance—for ourselves, as well as others— over time, we can let go of our anger, even when we’ve been hurt to the core. But that doesn’t mean we ever forget.

The objective of learning is not necessarily to remember. It may even be salutary to forget. It is only when we forget the early pains and struggles of forming letters that we acquire the capacity for writing. The adult does not remember all the history s/he learned but s/he may hope to have acquired a standard of character and conduct, a sense of affairs and a feeling of change and development in culture. Naturally there is nothing against having a well-stocked mind provided it does not prevent

Always we learn things and then we forget them.

The process of learning requires not only hearing and applying but also forgetting and then remembering again.

They had learned nothing and forgotten nothing.

Stupidity is letting your pride rob you of God’s blessings.

We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.

Absolute is a game with only one player where Absolute forgets itself so it would have a reason to fulfill the motion while returning.

She's sure, absolutely sure, that what she's waiting for will happen, just the way she wants it to; and I'm so uncertain, so fearful my dreams will end up forgotten somewhere, someday, like a piece of string and a paperclip lying in a dish.

there’s nothing todiscussthere’s nothing torememberthere’s nothing toforgetit’s sadand it’s notsadseems themost sensiblethinga person can doissitwith drink inhandas the wallswavetheir goodbyesmilesone comes throughit allwith a certain amount ofefficiency andbraverythenleavessome acceptthe possibility ofGodto help themgetthroughotherstake itstaight onand to theseI drink tonight.

Forgetting who you are is so much more complicated than simply forgetting your name. It's also forgetting your dreams. Your aspirations. What makes you happy. What you pray you'll never have to live without. It's meeting yourself for the first time, and not being sure of your first impression.

I was starting to learn how to forget the things that made me sad. It was like a charm you followed step-by-step, collecting and blending the ingredients, placing everything in its proper place. It was the magic of forgetting.

How long would it take for her sadness to ease? How long must she wait to forget a man who would've been her ideal, were he not who he was? The answer: too long. But wait she must.

I don't believe time heals. I don't want it to. If I heal, doesn't that mean I've accepted the world without her?

Time possesses emotional potency. For persons whom suffer from of bereavement, time possesses a healing capacity. Passage of time cures heartache by dimming the mind’s attunement to painful occurrences. For some people, the passage of time is akin to placing a welcomed physical boundary between themselves and past horrors. Passage of time allows us to forget and the ability to forget is medicinal. Time acts as a mental barrier between our present mental state and the pain that we once felt.

You know, sometimes it's nice to just have someone to blame, even if it has to be yourself, even if it doesn't make sense.

Be happy by forgiving or forgetting or doing both, but we can gain no happiness by holding grudges.

If you can't forgive and forget, then pick one and do it ...

Remembering to live by forgetting all the places where I died.

Life experiences are but moments, you can let them pass or you can make them last.

Forgiveness means that you will not allow a temporary event to have “forever” repercussions.

We deliberately forget because forgetting is a blessing. On both an emotional level and a spiritual level, forgetting is a natural part of the human experience and a natural function of the human brain. It is a feature, not a bug, one that saves us from being owned by our memories. Can a world that never forgets be a world that truly forgives?

Part of the function of memory is to forget; the omni-retentive mind will break down and produce at best an idiot savant who can recite a telephone book, and at worst a person to whom every grudge and slight is as yesterday's.

What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?

To forgive is wisdom, to forget is genius.

There was no more meaningless phrase in all of language than "Cheer up!" The only way to get someone to cheer up was to help them forget, and saying "cheer up" had quite the opposite effect, only reminding the person why he or she was depressed in the first place.

I don't like forgetting, Elías," I said with my eyes closed. A single tear slipped down my cheek and I let it. "I don't want to forget these moments that constantly remind me of who I am, who I was, and who you are. I don't want to forget my past and all the things about this world that's brought me here. With you.""So then why do you try?" he asked, his gaze searching my face. "Be here with me, T. Exist with me, because there isn't any other way I'd love you more.""I-I don't belong to you.""Bul

MASHA. Just think, I am already beginning to forget her face. People will not remember us either. They will forget.VERSHININ. Yes. They will forget. That is our fate, you can't do anything about it. The things which to us seem serious, significant, very important, - the time will come - they will be forgotten or they will seem of no consequence.

The reason I might forget something is because my mind is like a computer. I have so much useless stuff stored up in there, that when I forget to clean out my Mind's Cache, it has no room for new information. Like wearing pants!

We will not read of that which hurts our pride or fears or 'feelings'. We forget, or gloss over, or excuse, an experience which injured the tentacles of our personality. We forget the pscyhiatrist's definition of a neurosis as 'refused pain'. In the same way we escape from mental pain. We refuse to believe what we do not like.

My heart's with you, Bill, no matter how it turns out. My heart is with all of them, and I think that, even if we forget each other, we'll remember in our dreams.

We stood side by side, and for that minute, in the stillness of that room, he was not the King. I was not not the Princess, taken against her will to the City. We were two people trying to forget.

Like hatred, guilt can’t be locked in the silence of forgetting, without taking part of your soul with it.

Intense feelings of any kind keep people with you. Some you may want, others you won't. To forget people, and you never really forget, feel indifference.

Memories: some can be sucker punching, others carry you forward; some stay with you forever, others you forget on your own. You can’t really know which ones you’ll survive if you don’t stay on the battlefield, bad times shooting at you like bullets. But if you’re lucky, you’ll have plenty of good times to shield you.

How many times have I gone back to the border of memory and peered into the darkness beyond? But it is not only memories that hover on the border. There are all sorts of phantasmagoria that inhabit that realm. The nightmares of a lonely child. Fairy tales appropriated by a mind hungry for a story. The fantasies of an imaginative little girl anxious to explain to herself the inexplicable. Whatever story I may have discovered on the frontier of forgetting, I do not pretend to myself that is the tr

Memories are never as true as the things one forgets.

I know you’re just a rag doll now, sewn together with memories that we might have had. I know you’re just the dream inside of a dream And don’t worry, I know I don’t know you, anymore.

The day you forget about the poors, you become the poorest of the poor!

The enlightenment driven away,The habit-forming pain,Mismanagement and grief:We must suffer them all again.

Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting...

She goes on with her beautiful hair and mouth like before,I go on like before, alone in the field.It’s like my head had been lowered,And if I think this, and raise my headAnd the golden sun dries the need to cry I can’t stop having.How vast the field and interior love... !I look, and I forget, like dryness where there was water and trees losing their leaves.

. . .the sorrows of the heart yearn to be erased, for one final atonementfinite and forgetting and whole—but time in its preservingwill not permit forgetting; destroyingonly when we can no longer begor argue with time to preserve the brief benisonsa few moments longer than our sins

In Irena’s head the alcohol plays a double role: it frees her fantasy, encourages her boldness, makes her sensual, and at the same time it dims her memory. She makes love wildly, lasciviously, and at the same time the curtain of oblivion wraps her lewdness in an all-concealing darkness. As if a poet were writing his greatest poem with ink that instantly disappears.

This is what I know about my parents. They spent the next several years trying to forget each other, and me.

But then comes a time when forgetting isn't possible. And I do mean a particular time when no amount of dreaming, not then and maybe not ever, can change how naked and unimportant we become in our own eyes.

No one really remembers anything five minutes after it happens.