Lost In Oblivion Quotes

But misfortunes do not last forever (this they have in common with joys) but pass away or are at least diminished and become lost in oblivion. Life on the kapia always renews itself despite everything and the bridge does not change with the years or with the centuries or with the most painful turns in human affairs. All these pass over it, even as the unquiet waters pass beneath its smooth and perfect arches. ~ Ivo Andric

It always came down to his freaking pride. ~ Cari Quinn

Consolation
Calm down. Both your sins and your good deeds will be lost in oblivion. ~ Czeslaw Milosz

I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

If you have wanted to lose ten pounds for ten years and a diet finally helps you do it, you might well assume you have accomplished your goal. But your goal actually isn't to lose ten pounds. Many people (even you?) have lost ten pounds many times! The goal is to lose ten pounds and keep the weight off. Dieting doesn't lead to weight loss that endures. For this we must join a change in behavior with a change in the way we think and feel - and in order to change the way we think and feel, we need to change our mindsets. When we are working on truly adaptive goals - ones that require us to develop our mindsets - we must continually convert what we learn from behavioral changes into changes in our mindsets. ~ Robert Kegan

Who knows a man's name, holds that man's life in his keeping. Thus to Ged, who had lost faith in himself, Vetch had given him that gift that only a friend can give, the proof of unshaken, unshakeable trust. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

I've lost my point. It was to the effect that you can assert the existence of something - Being - having not the slightest notion of what it is. Then God is at a greater remove altogether - if God is the Author of Existence, what can it mean to say God exists? There's a problem in vocabulary. He would have to have had a character before existence which the poverty of our understanding can only call existence. ~ Marilynne Robinson

She then pulled him to the ground and clasped him in her arms.

Immediately, the cry went up: "Tam Lin is away!" The Elf Queen's black horse reared and she pulled him to a halt. Turning, she cast her mesmerizing emerald eyes toward Janet and Tam Lin. As Janet held Tam Lin fast, the Elf Queen put a spell upon them. Tam Lin shrank and became a small, scaly lizard which Janet clutched to her breast. Janet then felt a slithering sensation through her fingers. The lizard had become a cold, slippery snake which she gripped tightly, even as it coiled around her neck. Suddenly, a searing pain ran through her hands. The snake had been turned into a red-hot cinder. Tears of agony ran down her cheeks, but still, Janet held on to Tam Lin and would not let him go.

At last, the Elf Queen knew that she had lost Tam Lin because of the steadfast love of a mortal woman. She then shaped him in Janet's arms in his own form - as naked as the day he was born. In triumph, Janet covered Tam Lin with her cloak. ~ Bridget Haggerty

His lovely wife tends her zinnias in the mild morning light and his find young man comes fondly mishandling that perpetually lost sheep of a cat, Soapy, once more back from perdition for the time being, to what would have been general rejoicing. ~ Marilynne Robinson

Somehow she willed enough strength back into her knees to satisfy him, and she moaned as he began to thrust more powerfully and deeply than ever before. Each inward drive was a sensuous jolt, lifting her heels from the floor. She breathed and sweated and pushed back at him, the feelings rising thickly to a crescendo. The repeated wet impacts of their flesh embarrassed and excited her, and there was nothing she could do about any of it; she had lost all hope of control. One of his hands slid to the triangle between her thighs, caressing her pulsing flesh, while the other went to her breast and clamped the nipple gently between his thumb and finger.
That was all she needed. She pressed her clenched fists against the door and cried out repeatedly, in ecstasy that sounded like anguish. Satisfaction rushed and ebbed, back and forth, in heavy waves that soon broke into shudders. She really couldn't stand then, her limbs quaking, and he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Before her body had even settled completely on the bed, he was in her again, thrusting almost savagely, reaching beneath her hips to pull her up into each plunge. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I'm telling you, you bastard, you're going to pay for that rum. In gold or goods, I don't care which."
"Captain Mallory." Gray's baritone was forbidding. "And I apply that title loosely, as you are no manner of captain in my estimation…I have no intention of compensating you for the loss of your cargo. I will, however, accept your thanks."
"My thanks? For what?"
"For what?" Now O'Shea entered the mix. "For saving that heap of a ship and your worthless, rum-soaked arse, that's what."
"I'll thank you to go to hell," the gravelly voice answered. Mallory, she presumed. "You can't just board a man's craft and pitch a hold full of spirits into the sea. Right knaves, you lot."
"Oh, now we're the knaves, are we?" Gray asked. "I should have let that ship explode around your ears, you despicable sot. Knaves, indeed."
"Well, if you're such virtuous, charitable gents, then how come I'm trussed like a pig?" Sophia craned her neck and pushed the hatch open a bit further. Across the deck, she saw a pair of split-toed boots tied together with rope.
Gray answered, "We had to bind you last night because you were drunk out of your skull. And we're keeping you bound now because you're sober and still out of your skull."
The lashed boots shuffled across the deck, toward Gray. "Let me loose of these ropes, you blackguard, and I'll pound you straight out of your skull into oblivion."
O'Shea responded with a stream of colorful profanity, which Captain Gra ~ Tessa Dare

Vents were added to the rear bonnet in 1972 and resulted in wet engines and starting problems, and then extra drip-trays to compensate. From 1968 the Beetle got the right side fuel flap that dodgy people used to break open to steal your gas – or your fuel cap – another hard to find item if lost! ~ Christina Engela

Farewell, ungrateful traitor,
Farewell, my perjured swain;
Let never injured creature
Believe a man again.
The pleasure of possessing
Surpasses all expressing,
But 'tis too short a blessing,
And love too long a pain.

'Tis easy to deceive us
In pity of your pain;
But when we love you leave us
To rail at you in vain.
Before we have descried it
There is no bliss beside it,
But she that once has tried it
Will never love again.

The passion we pretended
Was only to obtain,
But when the charm is ended
The charmer you disdain.
Your love by ours we measure
Till we have lost our treasure,
But dying is a pleasure
When living is a pain. ~ John Dryden

Dryden was a highly prolific literary figure, a professional writer who was at the centre of all the greatest debates of his time: the end of the Commonwealth, the return of the monarch, the political and religious upheavals of the 1680s, and the specifically literary questions of neoclassicism opposed to more modern trends. He was Poet Laureate from 1668, but lost this position in 1688 on the overthrow of James II. Dryden had become Catholic in 1685, and his allegorical poem The Hind and the Panther (1687) discusses the complex issues of religion and politics in an attempt to reconcile bitterly opposed factions. This contains a well-known line which anticipates Wordsworth more than a century later: 'By education most have been misled … / And thus the child imposes on the man'. The poem shows an awareness of change as one grows older, and the impossibility of holding one view for a lifetime:

My thoughtless youth was winged with vain desires,
My manhood, long misled by wandering fires,
Followed false lights…

After 1688, Dryden returned to the theatre, which had given him many of his early successes in tragedy, tragi-comedy, and comedy, as well as with adaptations of Shakespeare.
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Dryden was an innovator, leading the move from heroic couplets to blank verse in drama, and at the centre of the intellectual debates of the Augustan age. He experimented with verse forms throughout his writing life until Fables Ancient and Modern (1700) ~ Ronald Carter

I chase the wind and get lost in the clouds. I'm sweep into darkness in my search for the light. ~ Sherman Kennon

Great souls by instinct to each other turn, demand alliance, and in friendship burn. ~ Elizabeth George

I'm not so sure liberal democracy as we know it has reached its terminus. It's clear though, that many have genuinely lost confidence in the Australian political class. One reason is that we like to place enormous burdens of expectations on modern political leaders. To be sure such expectations aren't always honest. Just as we want better public services but object to paying the higher taxes that would make them possible, we often want leadership but only if there aren't hard choices with real consequences. ~ Tim Soutphommasane

Is power like the vis viva and the quantite d'avancement? That is, is it conserved by the universe, or is it like shares of a stock, which may have great value one day, and be worthless the next? If power is like stock shares, then it follows that the immense sum thereof lately lost by B[olingbroke] has vanished like shadows in sunlight. For no matter how much wealth is lost in stock crashes, it never seems to turn up, but if power is conserved, then B's must have gone somewhere. Where is it? Some say 'twas scooped up by my Lord R, who hid it under a rock, lest my Lord M come from across the sea and snatch it away. My friends among the Whigs say that any power lost by a Tory is infallibly and insensibly distributed among all the people, but no matter how assiduously I search the lower rooms of the clink for B's lost power, I cannot seem to find any there, which explodes that argument, for there are assuredly very many people in those dark salons. I propose a novel theory of power, which is inspired by . . . the engine for raising water by fire. As a mill makes flour, a loom makes cloth and a forge makes steel, so we are assured this engine shall make power. If the backers of this device speak truly, and I have no reason to deprecate their honesty, it proves that power is not a conserved quantity, for of such quantities, it is never possible to make more. The amount of power in the world, it follows, is ever increasing, and the rate of increase grows ever faster as more of the ~ Neal Stephenson

That's what the court needs-a happy king, a king who can't stop dreaming of being lost in someone who wants to be just as lost. Tell me you'll let me get lost in you. ~ Melissa Marr

The trouble is,' the bound man went on, not stopped by anyone, 'that you are too closed off
and have definitively lost faith in people. You must agree, one can't place all one's affection in a
dog. Your life is impoverished, Hegemon.' And here the speaker allowed himself to smile. ~ Mikhail Bulgakov

Observe a method in the distribution of your time. Every hour will then know its proper employment, and no time will be lost ~ George Horne

I have always been a plodder, a person who anguishes and struggles over each sentence, and even on my best days I do no more than inch along, crawling on my belly like a man lost in the desert. The smallest word is surrounded by acres of silence for me, and even after I manage to get that word down on the page, it seems to sit there like a mirage, a speck of doubt glimmering in the sand. ~ Paul Auster

No, it is not only our fate but our business to lose innocence, and once we have lost that, it is futile to attempt a picnic in Eden. ~ Elizabeth Bowen

I suppose it was the end of the world for her when her husband and her baby were killed. I suppose she didn't care what became of her and flung herself into the horrible degradation of drink and promiscuous copulation to get even with life that had treated her so cruelly. She'd lived in heaven and when she lost it she couldn't put up with the common earth of common men, but in despair plunged headlong into hell. I can imagine that if she couldn't drink the nectar of the gods any more she thought she might as well drink bathroom gin.'
That's the sort of thing you say in novels. It's nonsense and you know it's nonsense. Sophie wallows in the gutter because she likes it. Other women have lost their husbands and children. It wasn't that that made her evil. Evil doesn't spring from good. The evil was there always. When that motor accident broke her defences it set her free to be herself. Don't waste your pity on her, she's now what at heart she always was. ~ W. Somerset Maugham

As I paddle along, I slowly become aware that it's been fear keeping me out of this pool for so many years. I never came here before because I was afraid I'd make a fool of myself by not having the endurance to complete a lap. The swimming wasn't what scared me; failure was. My fear locked me in a state of arrested development for so many years. Fear kept me from tackling my weight, which I understand has simply been symptomatic of my greater fear, growing up. I glide down the lane on my back and reflect on how good I feel right now. It's not because I've lost more than thirty pounds. I feel incredible because I've stopped being afraid. ~ Jen Lancaster

All surgeons fear an operation can go too far, to a point where they become irretrievably lost in aatomical bits and pieces. A limit beyond which Humpty Dumpty can never be put back together - at least, not perfectly. The body can never return to its pristine, original state after we've touched it with our hands. ~ Allan Hamilton

There are four types of husbands.
The husband who always wants to stay in in the evening, has no vices and works for a salary. Totally undesirable!
The atavistic master whose mistress one is, to wait on his pleasure. This sort always considers every pretty woman "shallow," a sort of peacock with arrested development.
Next comes the worshiper, the idolaters of his wife and all that is his, to the utter oblivion of everything else. This sort demands an emotional actress for a wife. God! It must be an exertion to be thought righteous!
And Anthony - a temporarily passionate lover with wisdom enough to realize when it has flown and that it must fly. And I want to get married to Anthony. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

All armies have expendable items. That is, a part or unit, the destruction of which will not be fatal to the whole. In some ordeals, a man might consider his finger expendable, but not his hand; or, in extremity, his arm but not his heart. There are expendable items which may be lost or destroyed in the field, either in peace or in war, without their owner being required to replace them. A rifle is so expendable or a cartridge belt. So are men.

Men are the most expendable of all. ~ Robert Leckie

Nobody gives you respect in this life. You must take it, you must earn it, and then you must hold it sacred, because no matter how hard respect is to attain, it can be lost in an instant. ~ Jennifer A. Nielsen

They promised me you wouldn't be hurt," he said. "And you haven't been, really. I mean, suppose you'd had a baby and lost it; wouldn't it be the same? And we're getting so much in return, Ro. ~ Ira Levin

We are at the mercy of time, and for all the ways we are remembered, a sea of things will be lost. But how much is contained in what lingers! ~ Alice McDermott

Dear Bill, I came to this black wall again, to see and touch your name. William R. Stocks. And as I do, I wonder if anyone ever stops to realize that next to your name, on this black wall, is your mother's heart. A heart broken fifteen years ago today, when you lost your life in Vietnam. And as I look at your name, I think of how many, many times I used to wonder how scared and homesick you must have been, in that strange country called Vietnam. And if and how it might have changed you, for you were the most happy-go-lucky kid in the world, hardly ever sad or unhappy. And until the day I die, I will see you as you laughed at me, even when I was very mad at you. And the next thing I knew, we were laughing together. But on this past New Year's Day, I talked by phone to a friend of yours from Michigan, who spent your last Christmas and the last four months of your life with you. Jim told me how you died, for he was there and saw the helicopter crash. He told me how your jobs were like sitting ducks; they would send you men out to draw the enemy into the open, and then, they would send in the big guns and planes to take over. He told me how after a while over there, instead of a yellow streak, the men got a mean streak down their backs. Each day the streak got bigger, and the men became meaner. Everyone but you, Bill. He said how you stayed the same happy-go-lucky guy that you were when you arrived in Vietnam. And he said how you, of all people, should never have been the one to ~ Eleanor Wimbish

I am the wilderness lost in man. ~ Mervyn Peake

In the same manner if any nation wasted part of its wealth, or lost part of its trade, it could not retain the same quantity of circulating medium which it before possessed. ~ David Ricardo