Quotes & Sayings About Forgetting Him

What have we done?" Lizzie whispered.
He had no acceptable answer for that, other than that it had been stunning.
She suddenly propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him with eyes still warm with the glow of lovemaking. "I think I've lost my fool mind, aye?"
"If you have, it has gone the way of mine," he said, stroking her cheek.
"What are we to do now? Go on as if nothing has happened between us?"
"Go on," he said, aware of how incredibly alive he was feeling, how impossibly tender his heart. "But without forgetting this moment." He really had no idea what he was saying. He could not look in her blue eyes and recall them in the throes of passion and imagine walking away from them. — Julia London

Forgetting myself for a moment, I stopped to study the menu that was elegantly exposed in a show window. I read, realizing that a few days earlier I could have gone in and ordered anything on the menu. But now, though I was the same person with the same appetite, the same appreciation and even the same wallet, no power on earth could get me inside this place for a meal. I recalled hearing some Negro say, "You can live here all your life, but you'll never get inside one of the great restaurants except as a kitchen boy." The Negro often dreams of things separated from him only by a door, knowing that he is forever cut off from experiencing them. — John Howard Griffin

You don't really want me on your team,' Lexie said. 'I'm totally terrible.'
'I know," Jake said. 'I want you on the other guy's team.'
Lexie swatted him with her free hand. "That is no way to talk with your girlfriend,' she said, forgetting for a moment that Bree was right there, intently watching them.
'You're right,' he said. 'My apologies, sugar plum. I'm sorry, honey pie. I'll never do it again, my little pumpkin. Is that better?'
She wrinkled her nose at him. ' feel so edible all of a sudden.'
'Cute enough to eat,' he said. — Tamara Summers

Momentarily forgetting how wind works, Lex tried spitting at him. This failed — Gina Damico

Sadly, prosperity is not the only reason people forget God. It can also be hard to remember Him when our lives go badly. When we struggle, as so many do, in grinding poverty or when our enemies prevail against us or when sickness is not healed, the enemy of our souls can send his evil message that there is no God or that if He exists He does not care about us. Then it can be hard for the Holy Ghost to bring to our remembrance the lifetime of blessings the Lord has given us from our infancy and in the midst of our distress.
There is a simple cure for the terrible malady of forgetting God, His blessings, and His messages to us. Jesus Christ promised it to His disciples when He was about to be crucified, resurrected, and then taken away from them to ascend in glory to His Father. They were concerned to know how they would be able to endure when He was no longer with them.
Here is the promise. It was fulfilled for them then. It can be fulfilled for all of us now. — Henry B. Eyring

If pain must come, may it come quickly. Because I have a life to live, and I need to live it in the best way possible. If he has to make a choice, may he make it now. Then I will either wait for him or forget him. — Paulo Coelho

The group's laughter echoed off the stained, plaster ceiling. I raised my beer, but before I clinked the bottles together, I challenged him. "You think you're a man I won't forget?"
"Ah'm nae any man ye've met before."
"Praise be," I smirked, "the others haven't been worth spit."
Then the whiskey came, and I was taken by the tawny light, forgetting to worry about my 'crazy'. Until Angus' efforts at gilding my heart, called my 'alter' to the fore. — Cheryl R Cowtan

Not wooing, no longer shall wooing, voice that has outgrown
it
be the nature of your cry; but instead, you would cry out as
purely as a bird
when the quickly ascending season lifts him up, nearly
forgetting
that he is a suffering creature and not just a single heart
being flung into brightness, into the intimate skies. — Rainer Maria Rilke

I made a circular motion with my finger around my temple to indicate I thought this guy was crazy, forgetting that there was no one in the room to see this circular motion except him. He saw it and frowned. — John Swartzwelder

Imagine that leader of all the enemy, in that great plain of Babylon, sitting on a sort of throne of smoking flame, a horrible and terrifying sight. Watch him calling together countless devils, to despatch them into different cities till the whole world is covered, forgetting no province or locality, no class or single individual. — Ignatius Of Loyola

you like men. So let's honour your tradition and do this your way." She came back wearing a strap-on. Martha took it in her hands and was surprised to see her fingers looked pale and gentle, unusually feminine against the skin-coloured rod. She wanted to take it in her mouth, but Petra said no again. "When you want a man, how do you want him?" she heard. "What do you ask your men to do? Tell me." She brushed her mouth against Martha's knees and thighs, then pulled apart her legs and slid in like a snake. They both stood still for a moment. Petra kissed her and did not stop kissing when she started swaying, and Martha was filled with slithering and enveloped by a thousand arms. Later they lay entangled, forgetting about time. — Lydia Perovic

She would not allow herself to remember how Note had treated her, and many others too, she suspected. She had forgiven him, yes, but she still did not like to remember. And perhaps a deliberate act of forgetting went along with forgiveness. You forgave, and then you said to yourself: Now I shall forget. Because if you did not forget, then your forgiveness would be tested, perhaps many times and in ways that you could not resist, and you might go back to anger, and to hating. — Alexander McCall Smith

Hey, aren't we forgetting something? (Savitar)
Your dignity? (Takeshi)
No, you have me confused with you again. Aren't you supposed to be training him? (Savitar)
So you admit my superiority by deflecting my attention to the neophyte. (Takeshi) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

When Louie is upset with us for, say, forgetting to feed him, he eats any socks he might find lying around. — Meg Cabot

I can help you with that." His voice was low. Without even looking up, she already knew that his eyes were blazing with that sensual stare that gave her shivers.

"Help me with what?" she asked in almost a whisper. But she already knew the answer. And while it scared her, it also warmed her to her core.

"Forgetting him. Moving on. I'm okay with being your rebound. I've already said that I want you. — Emilia Winters

209. He who gives himself to vanity, and does not give himself to meditation, forgetting the real aim (of life) and grasping at pleasure, will in time envy him who has exerted himself in meditation. — Anonymous

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. — Evan Fallenberg

She sat there reading; cool, calm and collected. "You could ruin his life with that information," her friend reported triumphantly. The woman sighed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "If I did he would never forget me," she replied. "Besides ... I don't care enough about his life to concern myself with what he does with it as long as he doesn't concern himself with thoughts of me." Her friend furrowed her brows. "Why?" she asked. The woman set her book down, leaned forward provocatively and said, "Because then I'd have to think of him too. — Donna Lynn Hope

I wonder if I'm being disloyal, if being with Didier means I'm forgetting about Jones. But every time I go in a drain, or past a church, I think of him. Every time I see a can of Coke, I think of Jones. And don't even start me on how I feel when I see department-store Santas.
A girl doesn't forget a guy like Jones in a big hurry. Even ow, when none of us are front-page news any longer, he's always in my head.
My name is Dodie.
Doe - as in don't change a thing (well, a couple of things I'd change).
Dee - as in delighted to have known you, Sebastian Worthington Jones.
Dodie Farnshaw. — Gabrielle Williams

When a man dwells on the pleasure of sense, attraction for them arises in him. From attraction arises desire, the lust of possession, and this leads to passion, to anger.

From passion comes confusion of mind, then loss of remembrance, the forgetting of duty. From this loss comes the ruin of reason, and the ruin of reason leads man to destruction. — Bhagavad Gita

The Doctor was strapped to a wide table of some kind, and Turlough immediately started on the straps that held him.
"We must stop meeting like this."
"Very amusing," the Doctor replied with an irritated look. Sharma made quicker work of them with his issue knife.
"You're forgetting your manners." Turlough remembered their predicament.
"Thank me later," he suggested, and turned to leave. — David A. McIntee

His failure to defeat something more powerful than himself, and the scar that reminds him of his failure, is no reason for shame; guilt is deserved only when the effort to resist evil is never made. Yet the human heart is disheartened by the most unreasonable self-judgments, because even when we take on giants, we too often confuse failure with fault, which I know too well. The only way back from such a bleak despondency is to shape humiliation into humility, to strive always to triumph over the darkness while never forgetting that the honor and the beauty are more in the striving than in the winning. When triumph at last comes, our efforts alone could not have won the day without that grace which surpasses all understanding and which will, if we allow it, imbue our lives with meaning.
Odd Thomas
Odd Interlude #3 (An Odd Thomas Story) — Dean Koontz

She had been trying to be honest with him, thinking her honesty would be winsome and that he would come to rescue her family, forgetting what she later learned as a writer: that to be honest is to open yourself up to people thinking you're crazy. — Susan Breen

To have the power of forgetting, for the time, self, friends, interests, relationship; and to think of doing right toward another, a stranger, an enemy, perhaps, is to have that which men can share only with the angels, and with Him who is above men and angels. — David Dudley Field II

Because this is another thing your average American man in crisis does: he tries to go home, forgetting, momentarily, that he is the reason he left home in the first place, that the home is not his anymore, and that the crisis is him. — Brock Clarke

This time I wouldn't forget him, because I couldn't ever forgive him - for breaking my heart twice. — James Patterson

He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any affections other than meterial ones. — Vicente Blasco Ibanez

I push him from my mind. This is no act of easy omission on my part; I do not consign him casually to a forgotten past. It is rather an act of will
a kind of self-performed surgery on my soul ... the bloodiest of mutilations. — Jim Fergus

I believe that that foolish man of Galilee, Jesus Christ, had something to tell us, to tell me. Not considering his existence here, I would immediately go into despair. Immediately. And forgetting him, I would first despair of the institutional church and its hierarchy, and only later, of the Jews. — Elias Chacour

[Herbert Spencer] was ready in those days to give everything a trial; he even thought of migrating to New Zealand, forgetting that a young country has no use for philosophers. It was characteristic of him that he made parallel lists of reasons for and against the move, giving each reason a numerical value. The sums being 110 points for remaining in England and 301 for going, he remained. — Will Durant

I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstaces are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life." Peeta says. "I would never be happy again. It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."
"No one really needs me," he says, and there's no selfpity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handfull of friends. But they will get on ... I realise only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
"I do," I say. "I need you. — Suzanne Collins

The artist's personality must be left in his dressing-room; his soul must be denuded of its own sensations and clothed with the base or noble qualities he is called upon to exhibit ... [he] must leave behind him the cares and vexations of life, throw aside his personality for several hours, and move in the dream of another life, forgetting everything. — Sarah Bernhardt

But these last months had turned him around and now Gen saw there could be as much virtue in letting go of what you knew as there had ever been in gathering new information. He worked as hard at forgetting as he had ever worked to learn. — Ann Patchett

I called the bartender, told him to bring me another beer. I sat there drinking it, and forgetting Earl Walker. It was funny, though, you live with something for part of a week, night and day. You let it fill your mind, and you find weak places in the investigation done ahead of you. It becomes a challenge. There are a lot of questions that need answers. They beat at you, insisting you find the answers, and find out why the cops ahead of you overlooked them. Tino Gonsmart. Ziggy. Too much sense to talk about Ruby. And — Harry Whittington

although his physician had advised him not to be overly concerned about forgetting facts and names, and he should begin to worry only if he stopped noticing that he couldn't remember them - if, in essence, he forgot that he was forgetting. — John Connolly

Someone had told him one day that you forget the voices of those whom you have been close to in the past very quickly. — Patrick Modiano

He begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cookery was owing.
Briefly forgetting her manners, Mary grabbed her fork and leapt from her chair onto the table. Lydia, who was seated nearest her, grabbed her ankle before she could dive at Mr. Collins and, presumably, stab him about the head and neck for such an insult. — Seth Grahame-Smith

Forgetting himself for a moment, Francis brought his hand out from under his frock in order to bless the multitude. When the people saw his wound they bellowed madly. The women dashed forward with mantles outstretched to catch the drops; the men thrust in their hands and anointed their faces with blood. The villagers' expressions grew savage, and so did their souls. They longed to be able to tear the Saint limb from limb in order for each of them to claim a mouthful of his flesh, for they wanted to make him their own, to have him enter them so that they could become one with a saint - could be sanctified. Blind rage had overpowered them; their eyes were leaden, their lips ringed with froth. — Nikos Kazantzakis

I keep forgetting who I'm dealing with. The Queen of Kink."
"I'm a trained submissive. More like King's Consort. I'm not worthy to hold actual rank," she said with a wink.
"Well, I'm honored to consort with you."
Eleanor gave him her best wicked grin. "Then consort with me already. — Tiffany Reisz

When you have a hard day or when I see you slipping backward, I'm desperate to stop it, to make you see how amazing you are, to help you know that you have so much to look forward to. The things that happened to you won't haunt you forever."
"But I'll remember them forever." I know there's no forgetting and I'm still not sure what to do with that.
He sucks in a breath. "But they'll hurt less."
I don't have to look at him to know there are tears on his face. — Jolene Perry

Jack sprung to his feet out of reach. "I'd prefer to finish this intact. "

"My apologies," Cabal said, grinning viciously. "l keep forgetting, you're only human." His smile softened to full amusement as Jack raised his sword in challenge.


"Human or not," Jack said as he slowly approached him. "I carry the advantage of unworldly knowledge. "

" Is that what you're doing?" Cabal laughed; "Something unworldly?"

"I have a vast library of knowledge inside my head from my homeland."

"What knowledge could your world offer that would be useful here?"

"How about a toilet?" Jack winked at Nicole.

"Perhaps you should build one and leave us all in awe." Cabal declared.

"People could call them 'Jacks' for short." Nicole added to the conversation. — Alaina Stanford

Julian wanted to laugh too. He wished he could. He wished he could forget the darkness that flickered at the edge of his vision. He wished he could close his eyes and fall, forgetting for one moment that there was no net stretched out below to catch him. — Cassandra Clare

She trusted him.
She had faith in him.
And he left her forever.
Something tells me she's not forgetting that anytime soon. — Lisa Schroeder

I am not a person who feels easy talking about blood or desire. I rarely used the word woman myself. But such things are the natural facts of what we are, I suppose we have to follow out these signs in the endless struggle against forgetting. The truth is, I lived out my adolescence mainly in default of my father's favor. But I perceived that I could trouble him less if I had no gender. — Anne Carson

I'm only doing this," he said, "because I really love hiding in haunted Eldren buildings on dark and creepy nights."
"You're a liar," said Jean, slowly. "I'm only doing this because I've always wanted to see Bug get eaten by an Eldren ghost."
"Liar," said Calo. "I'm only doing this because I fucking love hauling half a ton of bloody coins up out of a vault and packing them away on a cart."
"Liar!" Galdo chuckled. "I'm only doing this because while you're all busy elsewhere, I'm going to go pawn all the furniture in the burrow at No-Hope Harza's."
"You're all liars," said Locke as their eyes turned expectantly to him.
"We're only doing this because nobody else in Camorr is good enough to pull this off, and nobody else is dumb enough to get stuck doing it in the first place."
"Bastard!" They shouted in unison, forgetting their surroundings for a bare moment. — Scott Lynch

Several times that day, the name or thought of Papa had come up. And each time, Francie had felt a flash of tenderness instead of the old stab of pain. "Am I forgetting him?" she thought. "In time to come, will it be hard to remember anything about him? I guess it's like Granma Mary Rommely says: 'With time, passes all.' The first year was hard because we could say last 'lection he voted. Last Thanksgiving he ate with us. But next year it will be two years ago that he ... and as time passes it will be harder and harder to remember and keep track. — Betty Smith

Shakespeare put no children in his plays for a reason," Sir Godfrey muttered, glaring at Alf and Binnie.
"You're forgetting the Little Prince," Polly reminded him.
"Who he had the good sense to kill off in the second act," snapped Sir Godfrey. — Connie Willis

And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend,
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
And my own tale again for me shall sing,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And lo! my ancient burden may depart.
Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.
-from The Sad Shepherd — W.B.Yeats

My heart hurt when I remembered him, but the alternative was forgetting, and that was the final kind of death - when nobody told your story anymore. — Ann Aguirre

You own me," he said, water sputtering against his lips as his head bobbed at the surface. "You have lock and key, deed to the house, the welcome mat, all that shit. It's all yours, baby."
"I'll have to take good care of my property, then."
"And I'll have to behave on and off the premises. I may be a little rowdy, but ... I'll use my manners."
I sent him a small splash. "No swearing, invading personal space, or forgetting your pleases and thank-yous."
A glimmer twinkled in his irises, and for a moment, it looked as if he was the one about to drown. "Damn straight," he pulled me against him abruptly, nose to nose. "Now please get over here and fucking kiss me. — Rachael Wade

A star dawns in the night. Life through life, blood through blood to shine its light. Through love he was given the gift of birth, and from breath to death will walk the earth. The other gift comes through blood and bone, and is for him to take and own. Charm of the moon, power of the sun. Never forgetting an it harm done. — Nora Roberts

On hearing of the interesting events which have happened in the course of a man's experience, many people will wish that similar things had happened in their lives too, completely forgetting that they should be envious rather of the mental aptitude which lent those events the significance they possess when he describes them ; to a man of genius they were interesting adventures; but to the dull perceptions of an ordinary individual they would have been stale, everyday occurrences.
This is, in the highest degree, the case with many of Goethe's and Byron's poems, which are obviously founded upon actual facts; where it is open to a foolish reader to envy the poet because so many delightful things happened to him, instead of envying that mighty power of fantasy which was capable of turning a fairly common experience into something so great and beautiful. — Arthur Schopenhauer

Every few seconds a new book sees the light of day. Most of them will just be a part of the hum that makes us hard of hearing. Even the book is becoming an instrument of forgetting. A truly literary work comes into being as its creator's cry of protest against the forgetting that looms over him, over his predecessors and his contemporaries alike, and over his time, and the language he speaks. A literary work is something that defies death. — Ivan Klima

When you first heard him talking about it, you'd figure he was batshit crazy, but really, he was just trying to fill up his days so he didn't have to think about what a fucking mess he had made of everything. It's the same for most of us; forgetting our lives might be the best we'll ever do. — Donald Ray Pollock

Sometimes... I feel like I can't picture him anymore. Like I'm forgetting him... I forget the way he looked when he smiled. The sound of his voice. The way his hand felt wrapped around mine. And it hurts so badly, Jack. It hurts so fucking bad. Sometimes, it's so painful I can't breathe. Like the pain just sucks all of the air out of me... until there's nothing left. I don't want to forget. I really don't. But I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it stop. It hurts to remember. But it hurts even more to forget. — Britney King

God, I am hurt, and my mind is wounded, and it needs to be healed by forgetting the offense. I give thee permission to heal my mind so that I no longer remember the incident. Help me to see this person as you see him. Help me only consider his positive traits. Help me to see him as you see him. — Kirk Wilkinson

We are staring at each other, forgetting about the harsh reality and I can feel my heart reacting. He touches my cheek and the familiar electric current runs through me. His hands are warm, caressing my pale skin. His deep-blue eyes are filled with serenity and passion. I keep telling myself to breathe, but I am unable to exhale the air from my lungs. Then he leans forward and his lips touch mine, increasing the temperature in my body. He kisses me gently, trying to break his way through, testing to see if I let him in. His lips are sweet and warm. A few seconds later it is all over and he disappears once again, leaving me uncontrollably awake and trying to gather my wild thoughts. — Joanna Mazurkiewicz

Warden wore his comparatively new tan suit of Forstmann tropical worsted with the saddle-stitched lapels that had cost him $120 tourist prices, and that he saved for great occasions. But all the way into town he was furious with himself for coming. His hand hurt him and was swollen fatly and that also was her fault. He wished furiously he had stayed with Pete and the guys, forgetting how miserable he had been with them. He wished furiously he had left her and the rest of these middle-class society women to the gigolos who were neurotic enough themselves to be able to understand them. He wished furiously a lot of things. Once he even wished furiously he was dead and in hell. He knew then that he was in love.

- From Here to Eternity ; James Jones. — James Jones

Oh, I know. He cares about controlling you, using you, and what else am I forgetting? Oh yeah, claiming you. You're an object to him, something to be won. — H.M. Ward

Maybe that's why I was so afraid of Sasha's love. With him comes the remembering part that I was so good at forgetting.
~Piper - 'Breathe Me — Alexia Purdy

Don't forget the snow in the summertime, because you will meet him again when the summer is over! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

Hummingbirds laze around him. Fruit falls out of trees right into his open palms ... I've never felt this relaxed in my life. I keep forgetting my body and then have to go back and get it. — Jandy Nelson

Feel free to check out the hotel and talk to the staff," he said slipping out of bed. "And I'm happy to give you an up-close look at what we're doing." When she didn't answer, he glanced over his shoulder. Then cleared his throat.
Her attention jumped from his ass to his face. "Sorry, what did you say/"
"I said
"
She sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. And damn if she wasn't the most gorgeous thing with her creamy skin, pert breasts, and mussed hair.
He moaned like a guy totally whipped and stalked back to the bed where he climbed on top of her.
"Connor." She giggled and wiggled beneath him. Her arms went around his neck. "What are you doing?"
"Forgetting the time." He kissed her and didn't leave until they'd both had their fill. — Robin Bielman

During the last ten years of his life my father gradually lost the power of speech. At first he simply had trouble calling up certain words or would say similar words instead and then immediately laugh at himself. In the end he had only a handful of words left, and all his attempts at saying anything more substantial resulted in one of the last sentences he could articulate: 'That's strange.'
Whenever he said 'That's strange,' his eyes would express an infinite astonishment at knowing everything and being able to say nothing. Things lost their names and merged into a single, undifferentiated reality. I was the only one who by talking to him could temporarily transform that nameless infinity into the world of clearly named entities. — Milan Kundera

Of course she wants him to forget her. The last place she wants to reside is in his thoughts. What an unpleasant place to be. — Donna Lynn Hope

England for him was no longer a real place, but a consecrated isle in the lake of forgetting, where the God of the English still strode through an imaginary Eden, admiring His works. — Roger Scruton

Part of why I have started writing about love is feeling that our culture is forgetting what Martin Luther King taught. We name more and more streets and schools after him but that's almost irrelevant, because what is to be remembered is that strength to love. — Bell Hooks

(T)his world is pure illusion. It looks real but the first step of knowledge that the wizard must learn is not to trust his senses... The cycle of life and death continues forever, but only to the senses... (P)erhaps you were always alive, and birth was simply a moment of forgetting.... Light! It is all light.... The light is all, and in the light there is only one thing -- eternal life. It cannot be created or destroyed. The wizard is not afraid to walk in the darkness -- indeed he must -- because that is where illusion dies... (Wizards) dabble in eternity. The wizard looks around him and finds the eternal in all directions. His only choice is what to do with it.... It is also joy to pierce the illusion and find the wellspring of creative power. — Deepak Chopra

But what? But it was just so much easier to deal with the old pain by ignoring it? Forgetting it? Andy's presence meant having to actively work at forgiving him, and that was hard. Forgetting was much easier than forgiving
forgiving was an on-going process that had to continue past the dramatic declarations of apology and absolution. — Diana Killian

I stopped and asked him if he was all right, and he said he was tired of remembering everything he wanted to forget and forgetting everything he wanted to remember. — Kevin Brockmeier

I finally tracked down Derek. He was alone in the library, thumbing through a book.
"Found you." I said on a sigh of relief.
He turned. His lips curved in a quarter smile, gaze softening in a way that did something to my insides, made me pull up short, momentarily forgetting why I was there.
"I-Is Simon around?"
He blinked, then turned back to the shelf.
"He's upstairs. He's really pissed about Andrew so that's probably that safest place for him until we're ready to go, or he'll say something to him we don't want said. You need him?"
"Actually, m-maybe I should show you first."
He glanced over his shoulder, frowning.
"We found something."
" Oh." He paused, like he was mentally shifting gears, then nodded and followed me out. — Kelley Armstrong

As he spoke, I had the mental image of a small boy switching on the nightlight, not because he wants to be able to find his parents during the night, but because he fears his parents will forget him - lose him - in the dark. — Stephen Grosz

There were some crucial things Vera's parents were forgetting about crosses, was what Peter said. One was that Jesus was nailed to His by enemies, not by Mary and Joseph. And another, he said, was that it killed Him. Christ's cross killed Him. We've got to remember what crosses are, Peter said. They're not just decorations on steeples. They're murder weapons, he said, the same as guns, or gas chambers, or electric chairs. — David James Duncan

You are taken sick; you send for a physician; he comes in, stays ten minutes, prescribes for you a healing medicine, and charges you three or four dollars. You call this 'extortionate' - forgetting the medical books he must have waded through, the revolting dissections he must have witnessed and participated in, and the medical lectures he must have digested, to have enabled him to pronounce on your case so summarily and satisfactorily. — Fanny Fern

You may fear that the Lord has passed you by, but it is not so: he who counts the stars, and calls them by their names, is in no danger of forgetting his own children. He knows your case as thoroughly as if you were the only creature he ever made, or the only saint he ever loved. Approach him and be at peace. — Charles Spurgeon

There are hundreds of reasons for Daniel and me
to be impossible. History has not been kind
to two boys who love each other like we do.
But putting that aside. And not even considering
the fact that a hundred and fifty years ago,
his family was in a small town in Russia
and my family was in a similarly small town
in Ireland- I can't imagine they could have
imagined us here, together. Forgetting our gender,
ignoring all the strange roads that led to us
being in the same time and place, there is still
the simple impossibility of love. That all of our
contradicting securities and insecurities,
interests and disinterests, beliefs and doubts,
could somehow translate into this common
uncommon affection should be as impossible
as walking to the moon. But instead, I love him. — David Levithan

thank him. We can't have him forgetting about you." "But — Charlie Fenton

He wanted to hear Mhisery scream, he wanted to know she was forgetting everything that was going on except what was happening between the two of them. He wanted her to release the guilt she felt about her daddy and what she should or shouldn't be doing. He just wanted her to let it all go and just be with him in the moment. — Shyloh Morgan

The Major sits on a log, whittling at an oak branch. I can't tell what he's making, but he goes at it with the same fervor that Nugget and Coney get digging a hole, forgetting the world around them. He's a man with busy hands, that's for sure. He's always carving, hammering, or sewing something. I've seen him create tables and benches, shoes, halters, and even a leather tie necklace for Olive, which he made by boring a hole into a bit of quartz and working the leather strap through. Afterward, he declared himself the finest jeweler in all of Glory, California. — Rae Carson

Let Him empty and transform you ;and afterwards fill the chalice of your hearts to the brim, that you in your turn, may give of your abundance. Seek Him. Knowledge will make you strong as death. Love Him trustfully without looking back, without fear. Believe that Jesus and Jesus alone is life. Serve Jesus, casting aside and forgetting all that troubles or worries you, make loved the love that is not loved. — Mother Teresa

Perceval spends twenty years wandering in the woods, looking for the thing he had found, that was given to him, that seemed so easy, that was not. Later, when things were difficult for me with my work and I felt that I had lost or turned away from something I couldn't even identify, it was the Perceval story that gave me hope. There might be a second chance ... in fact, there were more than two chances-many more. I know, after fifty years that the finding/losing, forgetting/remembering, leaving/returning never stops. — Jeanette Winterson

Forgetting, along with hypocrisy, were, to him, the necessary arts central to living. — Hanif Kureishi

In the evening they went to say good-bye to Bilbo. 'Well, if you must go, you must,' he said. 'I am sorry. I shall miss you. It is nice just to know that you are about the place. But I am getting very sleepy.' Then he gave Frodo his mithril-coat and Sting, forgetting that he had already done so; and he gave him also three books of lore that he had made at various times, written in his spidery hand, and labelled on their red backs: Translations from the Elvish, by B. B. — J.R.R. Tolkien

This is what you remember about him: not much, but then you have been assiduous in your forgetting. His red sweater, v-neck, cashmere; the clink of ice-cubes in a glass. He is shadow and voice, but you cannot recall his face. He is behind a closed door, in a forbidden room. He is asleep in his armchair, he is asleep in the driveway, asleep in your sandpit, face down, snoring but not harmless, even then. He is shouting, he is whispering, he is close but also remote as if at the end of a long hallway and you cannot hear him. His words never make any sense, he speaks some other language. His hands sometimes spin away from him like windmills, like pinwheels and Catherine wheels, snapping like firecrackers. There must be pain, but you cannot feel it.
Your skin bruises like apples. — Melanie Finn

The receptivity of the masses is very limited, their intelligence is small, but their power of forgetting is enormous. In consequence of these facts, all effective propaganda must be limited to a very few points and must harp on these in slogans until the last member of the public understands what you want him to understand by your slogan. — Adolf Hitler

Forgiving presupposes remembering. And it creates a forgetting not in the natural way we forget yesterday's weather, but in the way of the great "in spite of" that says: I forget although I remember. Without this kind of forgetting no human relationship can endure healthily. I don't refer to a solemn act of asking for and offering forgiveness. Such rituals as sometimes occur between parents and children, or friends, or man and wife, are often acts of moral arrogance on the one part and enforced humiliation on the other. But I speak of the lasting willingness to accept him who has hurt us. — Paul Tillich

If you want to forget something or someone, never hate it, or never hate him/her. Everything and everyone that you hate is engraved upon your heart; if you want to let go of something, if you want to forget, you cannot hate. — C. JoyBell C.

Every person, if he is to have mental health and live successfully, must move away from past failures and mistakes and go forward without letting them be a weight upon him. The art of forgetting is absolutely necessary. — Norman Vincent Peale

Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor tower. Cho's voice echoing in his ears with every step he took ... 'Cedric - Cedric Diggory' . He had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten him at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favourite champion. Now he suddenly realised Cedric was in fact a useless pretty-boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup. — J.K. Rowling

The night was fading. It was too early to be called dawn yet, but Taylor could just make out the outline of Will's weary, unshaven face. His deep blue eyes were the only color in the gray world of rain and shadows.
Will leaned in, and his mouth covered Taylor's, rough but sweet, his tongue seeking Taylor's. Taylor opened willingly to that kiss, forgetting for a second his scratched, scraped hands and the rain running down the back of his neck. They kissed a lot these days, especially for men who had never been much for kissing. Taylor had become expert in all Will's kisses, from the hungry, lustful kisses that always made his own cock rise so fast it hurt, to the tender, almost cherishing kisses that Will generally saved for when he thought Taylor was sleeping. That dawn kiss beneath the pine trees rippled through him like an electric shock, a reminder that, tired, wet, and lost as they might be, so long as they were together, they were all right. — Josh Lanyon

Christians who indulge the habit of admitting rather than confessing sin over time tend not to see their sin as sin at all. It just seems like life. At first, they may hate the sin. They may truly wish to be free of it. These brothers and sisters may be forgetting or not knowing that even in our battle with sin God gives us an opportunity to glorify him. Indeed, I believe that the job of a Christian is to glorify God in all situations, including in the repentance of sin. — Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

Infinite? Am I forgetting anyone?"
Your Creator.
Kien almost smiled. True. All things considered, he'd been blessed far more than he deserved. "What, then, should I write to You, my Creator?"
He hardly expected an answer, but it came at once, swathing him in comfort.
Write your love for Me on your heart, where My Spirit finds it always. — R.J. Larson

The destroyer is...'" Ethan wondered at the next word, expecting 'horrific, 'mad', or even 'a bitch'... Not forgetting that she did try to kill him, of course.
"Glorious," he concluded to Ethan's surprise. — Louise G. White

When it came to her son, Dr. Jones's country did what it does best - it forgot him. The forgetting is habit, is yet another necessary component of the Dream. They have forgotten the scale of theft that enriched them in slavery; the terror that allowed them, for a century, to pilfer the vote; the segregationist policy that gave them their suburbs. They have forgotten, because to remember would tumble them out of the beautiful Dream and force them to live down here with us, down here in the world. I am convinced that the Dreamers, at least the Dreamers of today, would rather live white than live free. In the Dream they are Buck Rogers, Prince Aragorn, an entire race of Skywalkers. To awaken them is to reveal that they are an empire of humans and, like all empires of humans, are built on the destruction of the body. It is to stain their nobility, to make them vulnerable, fallible, breakable humans. Dr. — Ta-Nehisi Coates

Caroline closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Standing on the foredeck of the merchant vessel The Dreamer, the misty salt air bit at her skin and caused her to clutch her shawl more firmly around her. She'd left the warmth and comfort of her cabin to find a reprieve from thoughts of Jack, but it was impossible. Beneath the smell of the ocean she could still detect his evocative masculine scent, a scent that heated her blood and made forgetting him impossible. — Sylvia Day

The student ends up lusting after time with the teacher, hanging on her every word, and forgetting that this is about him or her, the student, not the teacher. — Zoketsu Norman Fischer

When she caught him staring, he would even more artlessly look down at the food on his plate with a show of puzzlement, as if he kept forgetting what supper was and how it was supposed to work. — Michael Chabon

Forgetting herself, she turned toward him and her eyes bulged. "You're naked!"
"It's what one tends to do in their home when it's time to sleep," he growled, now beginning to visibly get upset. And it seemed the more upset he got, the harder he got.
His cock was long and quickly turning rigid. She tried to look away without seeming like it affected her, but she knew her eyes were enormous in her face and her heart was definitely doing a strange stuttering.
"Stop acting like such a virgin. This isn't for you. — Marie Hall

Horrle was nodding gravely, humoring him, probably thinking that out of all these two hundred fun-loving people it was just his luck to have run into a doom merchant. McIntyre had committed the sin of pessimism, of course, forgetting, as a Brit, that out here optimism was more than a state of mind; optimism was a philosophy. — Christopher Hudson

Every novel is like this, desperation, a frustrated attempt to save something of the past. Except that it still has not been established whether it is the novel that prevents man from forgetting himself or the impossibility of forgetfulness that makes him write novels. — Jose Saramago