George Meredith Quotes

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

She stood beside me for years, or was it a moment? I cannot remember. Maybe I loved her, maybe I didn't. There was a house, and then no house. There were trees, but none remain. When no one remembers, what is there? You, whose moments are gone, who drift like smoke in the afterlife, tell me something, tell me anything.

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

To forget someone means to think of him.

They would grow old. They would forget me.

Few have wished for memory so much as they have longed for forgetfulness.

you remember what is lost, and you forget what's right in front of you.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Remembering is the most overrated thing. Forgetting is far superior.

I guess I should have forgotten about it ages ago, but forgetting isn't something I'm very good at.

..I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

... the irony of life is not that you cannot forget but that you can.

Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

The things we remember best are those better forgotten.

I exist only in the past.

When you begin to think about the past, you realize how much of it is lost to us.

I always find it extremely hard to remember the act of beginning. I almost deliberately forget it.

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

Over time, I've paid attention, taken notes and forgotten easily half of everything I've gone through.

I like people who have the capacity to forget. I think that to forget is a good thing. Forgetting is good. But sometimes I cannot. For me, I cannot.

I am blessed that I quickly forget things.

I only felt a cold wind blow while I tried to hang on to the past.

You, yesterday, did the usual things, just as any day, You don't know if it's worth remembering. You would prefer to remember, there lying in the half-darkness of the bedroom, not what has happened already but what is going to happen. In your half-darkness your eyes would prefer to look ahead, not behind, and they do not know how to foresee the past.