Solace Of The Forgotten Quotes

I take comfort in knowing that the inevitable passage of time will erase my crimes from history. ~ Dennis B. Boyer

What about the entrance to the cave?" she asked. He snapped his fingers as if he'd forgotten all about it.
"Excellent point."
Myrnin dragged the largest, heaviest table over, top down, and covered up with it the hole he'd made in the floor. Then he took handfuls of broken glass and mounded it up on all sides.
Myrnin artistically sprinkled some more broken glass. "There," Myrnin said, and backed off to the stairs again. "What do you think?"
"Fabulous." She sighed. "Brilliant job of camouflage."
"Normally, I'd add a corpse," he said, "just to keep people at bay. But that might be good enough. ~ Rachel Caine

The day was beautiful, that first day in September, the kind of perfect day that made life something to savor, when hot dogs really were delicious, ice cream was served, and egos were forgotten. ~ Kate Alcott

We cannot look at history and expect our contemporary perceptions to apply. His-story is a male sport, the story of men, as told by men through the ages. Women figure in it simply to patch the silent phrases. But there is an uncanny resemblance between rituals of forgotten history and the reign of the feminine unconscious. Harem cannot be explained simply through the mirror of history. Harem is a unique archetype of the collective unconscious - matriarchy incubating in the cradle of patriarchy. It is an unsolved enigma, a haunting mystery, and undeniably a source of intuitive intelligence. ~ Alev Lytle Croutier

The greatest relief is learning to let go. There is no one or nothing of the past that cannot be forgotten. Everything can be forgotten. It all depends on your willingness to let bygones be bygones. Only by putting the past behind you can you live in the present. ~ Master Jun Hong Lu

So I cradle this average violin that knows
Only forgotten showtunes, but argues
The possibility of free declamation anchored
To a dull refrain ... ~ John Ashbery

Whatever happened to Warren Buffett, the world's their-richest man? Guilt, a feeling of being blessed by luck, forgotten lessons - who knows? In any case, Buffett now believe that government should redistribute the wealth earned by others to those who did not earn it. ~ Larry Elder

Ravi buys all four of our tickets, which Peter is really impressed by. "Such a classy move," he whispers to me as we sit down. Peter deftly maneuvers it so we're sitting me, Peter, Ravi, Margot, so he can keep talking to him about soccer. Or football, as Ravi says. Margot gives me an amused look over their heads, and I can tell all the unpleasantness from before is forgotten.
After the movie, Peter suggests we go for frozen custards. "Have you ever had frozen custard before?" he asks Ravi.
"Never," Ravi says.
"It's the best, Rav," he says. "They make it homemade."
"Brilliant," Ravi says.
When the boys are in line, Margot says to me, "I think Peter's in love--with my boyfriend," and we both giggle.
We're still laughing when they get back to our table. Peter hands me my pralines and cream. "What's so funny?"
I just shake my head and dip my spoon into the custard. ~ Jenny Han

Nico," I said at last, "shouldn't you be sitting at the Hades table?"
He shrugged. "Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It's a mood disorder. I can't control it. That's what I told Chiron."
"And is it true?" I asked.
Nico smiled thinly. "I have a note from my doctor."
Will raised his hand. "I'm his doctor."
"Chiron decided it wasn't worth arguing about," Nico said. "As long as I sit at a table with other people, like ... oh, these guys for instance ... the zombies stay away. Everybody's happier."
Will nodded serenely. "It's the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants."
"Of course not," Nico agreed. ~ Rick Riordan

How do I know that loving life is not a delusion? How do I know that in hating death I am not like a man who, having left home in his youth, has forgotten the way back?
Lady Li was the daughter of the border guard of Ai. When she was first taken captive and brought to the state of Jin, she wept until her tears drenched the collar of her robe. But later, when she went to live in the palace of the ruler, shared his couch with him, and ate the delicious meats of his table, she wondered why she had ever wept. How do I know that the dead do not wonder why they ever longed for life? ~ Zhuangzi

...Brae, this is the season on Mercinia which makes adult Ursus shifters turn to cubs. The only difference is mistakes of children can be forgotten, but mistakes of adults can lead to war... ~ S.L. Gibson

The AMA puts the lives and well being of the American citizens well below it's own special interest ... It deserves to be ignored, rejected, and forgotten. No amount of historical gymnastics can hide the public record of AMA opposition to virtually every major health reform in the past 50 years ... The AMA has turned into a propaganda organ purveying 'medical politics' for deceiving the Congress, the people, and the doctors of America themselves. ~ Edward Kennedy

The advice I continually give to young writers is this, "Learn to paint pictures with words." Not just once upon a time, but ... In the long secret dust of ages, beneath a blue forgotten sky, where trade winds caress the sun bleached shores of unknown realms ... See, as much as there are words in poetry, there is a poetry in words. Use it, stay faithful to the path you have set your heart upon and follow it. ~ Brian Jacques

But Wyatt, the humiliation. Why? Why would God let him do this? It's a cruel turn when he's been so good his whole life. Why would God destroy his reputation for wisdom and good sense now?"
"I don't pretend to know God's purpose, but just look at how dealing with him has made you stronger. Look how you've changed. If he hadn't needed help, you would have never come to Missouri. You would've stayed in Boston and lived the life you'd always lived, and I would've never met you." He cupped the back of her head and held her against him. "God is still at work. He hasn't forgotten you, or your grandpa. ~ Regina Jennings

Asha stared as Mari for a while, her face once again betraying no emotions. "When we were acolytes, newly come to the Mage Guild Hall on Ihris, Mage Alain once tried to catch me as I fell. He was punished for this." Her gaze went to Alain. "We talked. In the first days. Before such things were driven from us. He was...he could have been...someone..."
"A friend," Alain said.
"Friend." Asha seemed to be looking inward now, as if searching for memories lost in time. "What does this mean?"
Alain's voice took on more feeling. "It is someone who helps."
"Helps?" Asha suddenly inhaled strongly. "I remember. When all else was gone...Alain...helps...helped...me."
"We were taught to forget this," Alain said. "Master Mechanic Mari reminded me of what it meant. She has reminded me of many things. She must do something of great importance. Will you help me now, Mage Asha?"
Here gaze rested on Alain, then went back to Mari. "This Mechanic helps Mage Alain. I will help, too. I will not betray you to the Guild, Mage Alain. ~ Jack Campbell

Where lies the strangling fruit that came from the hand of the sinner I shall bring forth the seeds of the dead to share with the worms that gather in the darkness and surround the world with the power of their lives while from the dimlit halls of other places forms that never were and never could be writhe for the impatience of the few who never saw what could have been. In the black water with the sun shining at midnight, those fruit shall come ripe and in the darkness of that which is golden shall split open to reveal the revelation of the fatal softness in the earth. The shadows of the abyss are like the petals of a monstrous flower that shall blossom within the skull and expand the mind beyond what any man can bear, but whether it decays under the earth or above on green fields, or out to sea or in the very air, all shall come to revelation, and to revel, in the knowledge of the strangling fruit - and the hand of the sinner shall rejoice, for there is no sin in shadow or in light that the seeds of the dead cannot forgive. And there shall be in the planting in the shadows a grace and a mercy from which shall blossom dark flowers, and their teeth shall devour and sustain and herald the passing of an age. That which dies shall still know life in death for all that decays is not forgotten and reanimated it shall walk the world in the bliss of not-knowing. And then there shall be a fire that knows the naming of you, and in the presence of the strangling fruit, its dark flame ~ Jeff VanderMeer

The bombs of heartbreak, rejection and destruction that had been dropped on his life that awful day could not be forgotten or ignored. ~ Jill Thrussell

All the forgotten beauty of his twenty-nine years poured over Theo. The beauty of such memory filled him. He watched as the white cat with the electric-blue eyes turned away. There, in front of the cat, stood the bright bridge, the tie between the immense eternities, of time before birth, of time after death. The ghosts of the yet-to-be-born and the ghosts of the dead both hovered amidst the white-breasted nuthatches poking their pecking beaks into the snow, searching for seed. ~ David Paul Kirkpatrick

In this miasma of forgotten wars, torture and the war on terror, there are no easy answers, especially in the face of a very real terrorism. But I can live my questions. As a humanitarian, I can act from a feeling of shared vulnerability with the victims of preventable suffering. I have a responsibility to bear witness publicly to the plight of those I seek to assist and to insist on independent humanitarian action and respect for international humanitarian law. As a citizen, I can assume my responsibility for the public world - the world of politics - not as a spectator, but as a participant who engages and shapes it. The larger force that can push back against the wrong use of power can be the force of a citizen's politics that openly debates the right use of power and the reasoned pursuit of justice. Catherine Lu, a political philosopher and my friend, has described justice as a boundary over which we must not go, a bond of common humanity between us, a balance among people of equal worth and dignity. I fight not for a utopian ideal, but each day I make a choice, against nihilism and towards justice. ~ James Orbinski

I have often thought, during these conferences, about the comment that Maurice Maignan, one of the first companions of Ozanam, made after a retreat: "One thought strikes me. All the means of sanctification which the preacher proposes and develops require a strong soul...I will not profit from exercises designed for strong souls. O my God, show me the exercises designed for feeble souls. Would the saints have forgotten or disdained them? Yet even if the saints did not think of these poor souls, who are nevertheless most numerous, You, Lord, my mercy, have not abandoned them. You Yourself, Good Master, have burdened Yourself with them. I know that better than anyone. I am one of those souls, and I bless You for having revealed to the weak and the little ones what You do not always accord to the valiant and the strong. ~ Jean C.J. D'Elbee

They're just the little people. Unknown all their lives and forgotten as soon as they die. If anyone talks about them, they're simply called the victim. But the killers, that's something else! They don't work or pay taxes or obey the law or live quiet lives of frustration. That's not news. Instead they kill. That makes them special. Charles Manson will be remembered and written about a hundred years from now, just as Jack the Ripper is remembered a hundred years after his crimes. Everybody wants a little recognition. More things are done for sheer recognition than for money or sex, as far as I can see. But the only ones who get it are the killers. Who knows all the names of Manson's victims? Or Jack the Ripper's victims? Or Charles Starkweather's victims? Or Caryl Chessman's victims? Who cares? They were just people. ~ Shane Stevens

MYTH 175. | George Washington was the first president of America. Peyton Randolph was the first American President but he was forgotten due to a technicality. When he was President, the United States was called The United Colonies of America. ~ John Brown

If there is no solace in the fruits of our research, there is at least some consolation in the research itself. Men and women are not content to comfort themselves with tales of gods and giants, or to confine their thoughts to the daily affairs of life; they also build telescopes and satellites and accelerators and sit at their desks for endless hours working out the meaning of the data they gather. ~ Steven Weinberg

I'm still willing to continue living with the burden of this memory. Even though this is a painful memory, even though this memory makes my heart ache. Sometimes I almost want to ask God to let me forget this memory. But as long as I try to be strong and not run away, doing my best, there will finally be someday ... there will be finally be someday I can overcome this painful memory. I believe I can. I believe I can do it. There is no memory that can be forgotten, there is not that kind of memory. Always in my heart. ~ Natsuki Takaya

Animals"

Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
when the day came fat with an apple in its mouth

it's no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned a few sharp corners

the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn't need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water

I wouldn't want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of my days. ~ John O'Hara

Finer culturing was often a sign of too long of a period of peace. A period of peace no doubt brought on by a strong military, which was forgotten or even ignored in the latter days of a self absorbed nation."

Excerpt From: Guy Stanton III. "A Warrior's Legacy." iBooks.
This material is copyrighted ~ Guy S. Stanton III

There will come a time', I said, 'when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this.'
I gestured encompassingly
'will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organis,s experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that's what everyone else does.' -Hazel Grace Lancaster ~ John Green

The Islamic world is passing through a most devastating period of transition. A history of economic and scientific change which in Europe took five hundred years, is, in the Muslim world, being squeezed into a couple of generations. Such a transition period…makes human beings very insecure. They look around for something to hold onto, that will give them an identity. In our case, that something is usually Islam.
[Islamic Spirituality: The Forgotten Revolution] ~ Abdal Hakim Murad

Let us say in the pocket of one of my old coats I find a movie ticket from many years ago. Once I see the ticket, not only do I remember that I saw this movie, but also scenes from this movie, which I think I have entirely forgotten, come back to me. Objects have this power, and I like it. ~ Orhan Pamuk

There are endless ways to amuse oneself and be idle, and most of them lie outside the woods. I assume that when a man goes to the woods he goes because he needs to. I think he is drawn to the wilderness much as he is drawn to a woman: it is, in its way, his opposite. It is as far as possible unlike his home or his work or anything he will ever manufacture. For that reason he can take from it a solace-an understanding of himself, of what he needs and what he can do without-such as he can find nowhere else. ~ Wendell Berry

In many ways, this book is not about the politicians who are turning the ANC and Nelson Mandela's legacy into a nightmare. It is about all of us, South Africans, who keep quiet when our voices are needed. It is about those of us who keep quiet when journalists like Mzilikazi wa Afrika are arrested on trumped-up charges.11 It is about those of us who have forgotten that freedom is never fully achieved, but is defended and renewed every single day, in every square inch of space we occupy in the world. If the South Africa of our dreams withers and dies, it will be because we have stepped away from the public square. Where is the real ANC? Crucially, where are the men and women who fought so valiantly for this new South Africa? ~ Justice Malala