#forgetting

It's difficult to wait for someone. It's difficult to forget someone. But the most difficult thing is to decide, whether to wait or to forget. ↗

— Hannah Mae Bencio

#decision #forgetting #love-hurts #waiting #love

I think the secret to a hoppy life is a selective memory. Remember what you are most grateful for and quickly forget what your not. ↗

— Richard Paul Evans

#forgetting-the-past #inspirational #memory #inspirational

Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust. ↗

— Margery Allingham

#dust #every #forgetting #minute #mourning

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

— H. Rider Haggard

#death #forget #forgetting #immortality #life

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. ↗

— M.T. Anderson

#life #mind #experience

Nothing stays forgotten for long, Elly. Sometimes we simply have to remind the world that we're still here. ↗

— Sarah Winman

#life #memory #life

When You Have Forgotten Sunday: The Love Story -- And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday, And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday -- When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed, Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon Looking off down the long street To nowhere, Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why? And if-Monday-never-had-to-come— When you have forgotten that, I say, And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell, And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang; And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner, That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles Or chicken and rice And salad and rye bread and tea And chocolate chip cookies -- I say, when you have forgotten that, When you have forgotten my little presentiment That the war would be over before they got to you; And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed, And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end Bright bedclothes, Then gently folded into each other— When you have, I say, forgotten all that, Then you may tell, Then I may believe You have forgotten me well. ↗

— Gwendolyn Brooks

#love #love

Every composer knows the anguish and despair occasioned by forgetting ideas which one had no time to write down. ↗

— Hector Berlioz

#composer #despair #down #every #forgetting

I've a grand memory for forgetting. ↗

— Robert Louis Stevenson

#grand #i #memory

The eruption of lived pleasure is such that in losing myself I find myself; forgetting that I exist, I realize myself. ↗

— Raoul Vaneigem

#exist #find #forgetting #i #lived