Already Forgot You Quotes & Sayings

Emilio appeared with wine before Cal could say anything, and Min beamed at him, grateful for the rescue. "Emilio, my darling. I forgot to mention cake boxes. Two hundred cake boxes."
"Already on it," Emilio said. "Nonna said you'd need them. She said to get four-inch-square boxes for three-inch-square cakes."
"I'm getting the boxes," Min said, nodding. "Sure. Great. Fine. Your grandmother is an angel and you are my hero. And of course, a genius with food."
"And you are my favorite customer." Emilio kissed her cheek and disappeared back into the kitchen.
"I love him," she told Cal.
"I noticed," Cal said. "Been seeing him behind my back, have you?"
"Yes," Min said. "We've been having conversations about cake."
"Whoa," Cal said. "For you, that's talking dirty. — Jennifer Crusie

Once I knew, then I forgot. It was as if I had fallen asleep in a field only to discover at waking that a grove of trees had grown up around me.
"Doubt nothing, believe everything," was my friend's idea of metaphysics, although his brother ran away with his wife. He still bought her a rose every day, sat in the empty house for the next twenty years talking to her about the weather.
I was already dozing off in the shade, dreaming that the rustling trees were my many selves explaining themselves all at the same time so that I could not make out a single word. My life was a beautiful mystery on the verge of understanding, always on the verge! Think of it!
My friend's empty house with every one of its windows lit. The dark trees multiplying all around it. — Charles Simic

It's midnight!" he says frantically, slapping at the door. "Call her. Call your roommate!"
"Oh, shit," I mutter. I retrieve my phone and begin to dial Emory's number.
"I was about to dial 911," Emory says as she answers.
"Sorry, we almost forgot."
"Do you need to use the code word?" she asks.
"No, I'm fine. I already locked him out, so I don't think he's going to murder me tonight."
Emory sighs. "That sucks," she says. "Not that he didn't murder you," she adds quickly. "I just really wanted to hear you say the code word."
I laugh. "I'm sorry my safety disappoints you."
She sighs again. "Please? Just say it for me one time."
"Fine," I say with a groan. "Meat dress. Are you happy?"
There's a quiet pause before she says, "I don't know. Now I'm not sure if you said the code word just to make me happy or if you're really in danger. — Colleen Hoover

Perhaps this was how the sparrows did it too; perhaps they were looking so hard at the peaks and tips of the new rooftops coated with dew, and the vast new horizon, that they only forgot that they did not know how to fly until they were already in midair. — Lauren Oliver

After Kellan begged me for a final kiss, Griffin murmured, "Your wedding day is Thanksgiving. That's convenient." He pointed at Kellan. "You probably won't forget your anniversary." He looked over at Anna. "We shoulda done that. I already forgot ours."
Anna smirked at Griffin while Kellan's lip twitched. "Uh, it won't always be on Thanksgiving, Griff."
He looked horribly confused. "Huh? Yeah, it will."
"Kellan bit his lip. I could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh, since laughing hurt. "Thanksgiving isn't on the same day every year. It moves around."
Griffin glared at Kellan. "Don't even try fucking with me, Kell." He tapped his finger to his head. "I'm on to you."
I heard Matt and Evan snigger with Justin and Denny. My dad stared at the ceiling as he shook his head. I couldn't contain my giggle; poor Kellan had to take long, slow exhales so he didn't laugh with everyone else. "Griff, I'm not ... — S.C. Stephens

To technical people, these seem like minor oversights that take only a minute to fix. "Oops. I forgot to change the server name to the production server." Or, "Oh, the new screens are there. I just forgot to link the button." But to users who are already feeling a bit skittish about trying out the new technology, these first impressions are a big deal. To you, these events probably seem inconsequential, carrying no inherent meaning, but to them it sets off major alarm bells. It signals things like, "This technology must be a sloppy piece of crap," and, "These IT people must be completely incompetent," and, "They must think I'm not important enough for them to check their work. — Paul Glen

An elderly merchant, a man with a long beard, was pleading with a young girl for a favourable report! Whatever Block's ulterior motive might be, nothing could justify his behaviour in the eyes of a fellow human being.
K. did not understand how the advocate could have imagined that this spectacle would win him over. If K. had not dismissed him already, this performance would have made him do so; it almost degraded the onlooker. So this was the effect of the advocate's method, to which K. had fortunately not been exposed for too long: the client finally forgot the whole world and could only drag himself along this illusory path to the end of his trial. He was no longer a client; he was the advocate's dog. — Franz Kafka

Alex, I remember when Eve was the touchiest, feeliest sub I'd ever met." "He raped her. He abused her. She can't go back," Alex said. "We can't go back." "Then Evans wins. He did his job, and you should just hang it the fuck up. Why bother hunting the man down? You're already dead. You just forgot to tell us to bury the fucking body, man. — Lexi Blake

Things I forgot to tell you:
That I love you, and that when I awake in the morning I use my intelligence to discover more ways of appreciating you.
That when June comes back she will love you more because I have loved you. There are new leaves on the tip and climax of your already overrich head.
That I love you.
That I love you.
That I love you.
I have become an idiot like Gertrude Stein. That's what love does to intelligent women. They cannot write letters anymore. — Anais Nin

I try to find the books that I lost or forgot more than 30 years ago on another continent, with the hope and dedication and bitterness of those who search for their first lost books, books that if found I wouldn't read anyway, because I've already read them over and over, but that I would look at and touch just as the miser strokes the coins under which he's buried ... Books are like ghosts — Roberto Bolano

You forgot to cough!" he said.
"Sorry." She coughed.
"Your sneakiness is dangerous. Next time that chisel will lodge itself in my head."
"Now, Peder, there's plenty of stone around here for carving. No need to practice on your own face."
He stroked his chin. "You're right, my jaw is already chiseled to perfection."
She agreed, but she felt too silly to say so aloud. — Shannon Hale

That's the trouble with you young people. You think because you ain't been here long, you know everything. In my life I already forgot more than you ever know. — Neil Gaiman

All the mistakes I've made,
That caused others pain,
I could have done without.
All my foolish pride,
The things I want to hide,
Have already been forgot.

They're all behind you,
They'll never find you,
They shall return no more.
... Sins are forgotten,
Sunk to the bottom,
Resting on the ocean floor.

My careless misdeeds,
All my thoughtless greeds,
Can only haunt me now.
They've been wiped away,
By a soul so brave,
And so they are no more.

My memories
My wrongful deeds
Have gone away forever more.
Sins are forgotten
Sunk to the bottom
Resting on the ocean floor. — Jose N. Harris

When I was 5, he said, my family forgot & left me at the fair. I wandered around in the bright sounds & smells of hot sawdust & cotton candy for hours. It was already too late by the time my parents found me.
I haven't been fit for decent society since. — Brian Andreas

Cristofer did not write because he feared forgetting something. He never forgot anything, even when he reached old age. For Cristofer, the written word seemed to regulate the world. Stop its fluctuations. Prevent notions from eroding. This is why Cristofer's sphere of interest was so broad. According to the writer's thinking, that sphere should correspond to the world's breadth.

Cristofer usually left his writings in the places where he had made them: on the bench, on the stove, on the woodpile. He did not pick them up when the fell to the floor: he vaguely anticipated their discovery, much later, in a cultural stratum. Cristofer understood that the written word would always remain that way. No matter what happened later, once it had been written, the word had already occurred. — Evgenij Vodolazkin

Noticing and remembering everything would trap bright scenes to light and fill the blank and darkening past which was already piling up behind me. The growing size of that blank and ever-darkening past frightened me; it loomed beside me like a hole in the air and battened on scraps of my life I failed to claim. If one day I forgot to notice my life, and be damned grateful for it, the blank cave would suck me up entire. — Annie Dillard

When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case
compared with him, at least.
"You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face.
"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.
His golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."
My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale. — Stephenie Meyer

We're going to be rich.
Huh?
Forgot. You're already rich. I'm going to be rich, and you'll be richer
okay
I'm serious. We've just discover a non-fail motivation for exercise. Hot jungle sex. We'll be Bill Gates rich. We'll write a book. There'll be DVDs and infomercials.
America, then the world, will become buff and sexually satisfied. And they'll have us to thank. — Nora Roberts

Sort of Coping"

Why is anyone in the world so terrible. Real catastrophe
and catastrophizing. If we only knew when it was going to
happen.

I saw you put your hands on the floor. Intimacy without
disturbances.
The scope here of memorization, planets. The history of children

sitting still. You are so cute in all your facebook photos.
When you moved to Portland I forgot we used to call you

Tumbleweed Tex. All those barking dogs, feathered hair.
We have something in common I never mention. I wish

I'd written it down and folded it into one of your piles
saying I want to read every one of these books! Do you think

you'll have read them all before the end of time. Did you go in
to see her when she was dead. Maybe you already knew. — Farrah Field

[Eugenides] looked from Eddis to the window, where the visible sky was already dark. He looked back, his gaze a little sharper, and said, "You forgot me."
Eddis shoved her hands into the pockets of her trousers..
"Don't lie," Eugenides said, pressing her. "You charged off in a haze of glory to chase the vile Mede from our shore, and you never gave me a thought until they were gone."
He twisted to address Attolia. "You forgot me, too," he accused.
Attolia answered cooly, "You were fed. — Megan Whalen Turner

No sooner had one season slipped out the door than the next came in by another door. A person might scramble to the closing door and call out, Hey, wait a minute, there's one last thing I forgot to tell you. But nobody would be there any more. The door shuts tight. Already another season is in the room, sitting in a chair, striking a match to light a cigarette. Anything you forgot to mention, the stranger says, you might as well go ahead and tell me, and if it works out, I'll get the message through.
Nah, it's okay, you say, it was nothing really. And all around, the sound of the wind. Nothing, really. A season's died, that's all. — Haruki Murakami

I am so sick of you stealing my joy. But that's changing too. My joy doesn't come from my friends, it doesn't come from my job, it doesn't even come from my husband. My joy is found in Jesus, and just in case you forgot, He has already defeated you. So go back to hell where you belong and leave my family alone! — Chris Fabry

In our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever ... listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, It is all one vast awakened thing. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended. — Jack Kerouac

Without ELF, I'm just an empty shell. I'll always love E.L.F., even if E.L.F. already forgot about SJ. — Leeteuk

The metaphor is perhaps one of man's most fruitful potentialities. Its efficacy verges on magic, and it seems a tool for creation which God forgot inside one of His creatures when He made him. All our faculties keep us within the realm of the real, of what is already there. The most we can do is to combine things or break them up. The metaphor alone furnishes an escape; between the real things, it lets emerge imaginary reefs, a crop of floating islands. — Jose Ortega Y Gasset