Forgetting Quotes - Page 3

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?

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.

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

Memory is the enemy of wonder

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.

And I got to thinking about the moral meaning of memory, per se. And what it means to forget, what it means to fail to find and preserve the connection with the dead whose lives you, or I, want or need to honor with our own.

Thank god for Vegas. Seriously.A lobotomy wasn’t as effective as a weekend three hours of Red Bull away (from LA, not Pismo) where I wore the thinnest pinned stilettos, gambled like a sweaty degenerate mobster in black loafers, drank like Amy Winehouse and Charles Bukowski’s baby, and snorted throat-dripping lines of coke in a Hard Rock Hotel bathroom with four new best friends. I’d giddily rub off any one of those from the to-do list I wrote in eyeliner on my hotel bathroom mirror.

He can hum the music in his old man's quivering voice, but he prefers it in his head, where it lives on in violins and reedy winds. If he imagines it in rehearsal he can remember every step of his three-minute solo as if he had danced it only yesterday, but he knows, too, that one time, onstage in Berlin, he had not danced it as he had learned it; this much he knows but cannot recreate, could no recreate it even a moment after he had finished dancing it. While dancing he had felt blind to the stage and audience, deaf to the music. He had let his body do what it needed to do, free to expand and contract in space, to soar and spin. So, accordingly, when he tries to remember the way he danced it on stage, he cannot hear the music or feel his feet or get a sense of the audience. He is embryonic, momentarily cut off from the world around him. The three most important minutes of his life, the ones that determined his fate and future, are the three to which he cannot gain access, ever.

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

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?

Without forgetting it is quite impossible to live at all.

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

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.

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 truth.

To write a diary is to make a series of choices about what to omit, what to forget. A memorable sandwich, an unmemorable flight of stairs. A memorable bit of conversation surrounded by chatter that no one records.

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

If you are able to forget yourself, you will know you would not be forgotten!

The irony of lifeIs our greatest fear is to forget,Yet it's the only certain fateThat anything has ever met.We know one day our earthWill find itself victim to time,That nothing will be leftTo tell of your story or mine,And still through life we rushScrambling for something to remember,Perish the thought that ash be ashAnd not the memory of an ember.

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.

There's a lot of magic between you too, ain't no denying that. And magic makes forgettin' hard.

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 woman standing on an island in the middle of the river. The devotee fell madly in love on the spot. He grabbed a boat and rowed over to her. She responded to him, and the two were married. They had children in a house on the island; the devotee grew rich and old plying his trade as a merchant. Many years later, a typhoon came along and devastated the island. The merchant was swept away in the storm. He nearly drowned but regained consciousness on the very spot where he had once begged to see God. His whole life, including his house, wife, and children, seemed never to have happened.Suddenly he looked over his shoulder, only to see Vishnu standing there in all his radiance."Well," Vishnu said, "did you find me a glass of water?

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

The day we forget the horror, Sam, we will repeat it. Never forget your past. It will make you less human, less than human.

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

Dickens writes that an event, "began to be forgotten, as most affairs are, when wonder, having no fresh food to support it, dies away of itself.

One who cannot leave himself behind on the threshold of the moment and forget the past, who cannot stand on a single point, like a goddess of victory, without fear or giddiness, will never know what happiness is; and, worse still, will never do anything that makes others happy.

Always give without remembering and always receive without forgetting.

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

It had been years since she question his fidelity, but he'd stepped on to the old fame track again, and that was where the road had taken them before. Infidelity could be forgiven, but forgetting it was impossible. Strangely, that wasn't what bothered her the most. What bothered her was that she didn't really care.

Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.

I pour blood on my naiveté, your apathy, and your betrayal tonight.

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.

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)

No one really remembers anything five minutes after it happens.

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.

While he spends all of his time trying to remember, I spend all of my time trying to forget.I don’t want to remember how it feels to love him.I want to forget everything in this world that reminds me of him.

Some things you never forgot. She had come to believe that the very things the practical world dismissed as ephemera—things like songs and moonlight and kisses—were sometimes the things that lasted the longest. They might be foolish, but they defied forgetting. And that was good. That was good.

To forgive is wisdom, to forget is genius.

Love is never hurtful; It’s never about forgetting who you are, it’s about exploring yourself more.

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

The assassination of Allende quickly covered over the memory of the Russian invasion of Bohemia, the bloody massacre in Bangladesh caused Allende to be forgotten, the din of war in the Sinai Desert drowned out the groans of Bangladesh, the massacres in Cambodia caused the Sinai to be forgotten, and so on, and on and on, until everyone has completely forgotten everything.

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.

And then, gradually, the memory of her would fade away, I had forgotten the girl of my dream.