John Christopher Quotes

There is no remembrance which time does not obliterate, nor pain which death does not terminate.

People say you never remember anybody who dies in movies, and it's true, you don't. You don't even remember people who disappear.

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.

Someday no one will remember that she ever existed, I wrote in my notebook, and then, or that I did. Because memories fall apart, too. And then you're left with nothing, left not even with a ghost but with its shadow. In the beginning, she had haunted me, haunted my dreams, but even now, just weeks later, she was slipping away, falling apart in my memory and everyone else's, dying again.

Man passes away; his name perishes from record and recollection; his history is as a tale that is told, and his very monument becomes a ruin.

We write our names in the sand: and then the waves roll in and wash them away.

They would grow old. They would forget me.

And we forget because we must and not because we will.

Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.

The industry's memory is quite short, it's true.

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

People will forget me pretty quick.

Experience had taught me that even the most precious memories fade with the passage of time.

Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

The stream of thought flows on; but most of its segments fall into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Of some, no memory survives the instant of their passage. Of others, it is confined to a few moments, hours or days. Others, again, leave vestiges which are indestructible, and by means of which they may be recalled as long as life endures.

You forget all of it anyway. . . You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. . . You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else.

The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.

Like a wind crying endlessly through the universe, Time carries away the names and the deeds of conquerors and commoners alike. And all that we were, all that remains, is in the memories of those who cared we came this way for a brief moment.

All that I've lived I've forgotten, as if I'd vaguely heard it. All that I'll be reminds me of nothing, as if I'd lived and forgotten it.

People are machines of forgetfulness

When they're gone out of his head, these words, they'll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been.

The sands of time are quicksands ... so much can sink into them without a trace.

Do we soon forget the things we cannot see?

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

Jump to the day we'll all be dead and none of this will matter. Jump to the day another house will stand here and the people living there won't know we ever happened.